the old house now is just a lump in my throat
i smoked on the porch while the leaves made ocean sounds
and you sat in bed reading darwin
we cried and laughed in the same wooden room
laying on the floor declaring
the beauty of the white ceiling
the beauty of tomatoes
couldn’t we grow old together?
moving shoeless into the open air
examining books in the summer light
taking sprigs of lavender from farmer’s markets
time pulls everything apart, like taffy
but I still see you
sitting by the water with your feet up
all around us, glistening,
I still see you
like you’re right here
Lee Fenyes studied poetry and English Language & Literature at the University of Michigan, where they received the Emerging Writers Award and the Virginia Voss Award for Academic Writing. Based in central New York, they are a researcher for the non-profit world. Lee spends their time thinking and writing on nature, memory, and identity.