Poem: Wish You Were Here

There is a chair waiting
on the porch.

The coffee is warm.

The tomatoes have ripened.

Mint leaves float
in a pitcher of ice water.

A loaf cools on the countertop,
its scent leading you
from the sidewalk.

There are no headlines here.

There is no hurry.

Just gardens.

Just porches.

Just quiet promises

that life becomes richer
when it is shared.

May your table
always have one extra place.

May your hands
grow something beautiful.

May your home become
the kind of place
someone is always glad
they visited.

And if you're reading this
from far away—

Know this is simply
a wish.

A wish that you feel
at home...

wherever

you are.

🩷