Someday

Someday,

I want to have a couch big enough to fall asleep on,

under a warm, thin blanket and the sounds of the house around me.

I want to have a floor big enough to put a rug on,

so that I might sit on the floor while watching TV 

to feel the scenes more,

and so I might wash it when it starts to smell. 

I want to have a window that opens 

wide enough for me to stick my head out of,

so I might watch the people on the street and wonder

what songs are in their heads,

and what phone calls they’ve had today,

and what they think about when they see the sunset, if anything at all.

I want to have a kitchen table big enough to sit at

with all the folks I love,

and eat food that is warm and salty and full of fat,

and laugh with the food all stuck in our teeth.

I want to have speakers loud enough

that I might blast my favourite songs so loud I can’t hear myself think,

and that people can’t hear me if I might cry.

Someday,

I want to have a house big enough to fill with myself, 

with walls that might crack and go damp,

and floors that might creak with heavy steps,

so that I might fill it with blankets and rugs and salty food and music, 

and that I might love it from top to bottom.

Other posts that may interest you:

• The Farmer’s Wife
• Sticky hands