he loves

thimbles tacks and tiny things

sewing

stationary

the fresh cracked open book smell

and pressing his nose into its pages

 

inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide

the atoms dancing in his dna 

of fallen trees

of dead leaves

and the mammoths that trampled the earth

before his blip into existence

 

rain and snow

quiet afternoons 

planting something new

the soft heat of sunshine peeking through the canopy of leaves

draping shadow over him as he rests against giant oak trunks

 

holding hands

the roll of his tongue

when he pronounces his 'r's 

a momentarily shared glance

gentle clasps on his shoulders

and ruffling of his hair 

and caresses of his face

 

and home. he loves his home

in your arms especially 

 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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