things I didn’t know I loved

I didn’t know I loved the way my grandmother’s voice would rise when she got irritated, which was often; or how she would tell me I didn’t know shit and then tell me what I ought to know even though she didn’t know what I knew.

I didn’t know I loved the way Grandpa was so proud of his organic tomatoes, how he’d make a fuss about them being home grown—better than store bought.

I didn’t know I loved my first bicycle, with it’s banana seat and high hog handlebars, purple metallic paint and orange flag.

I didn’t know I loved the way my brother fussed over my bike like it was his own.

© November 26, 2002

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I'm a rock-n-roller poet who left the Big Apple for the Big Sky Desert where I've been letting it be and grooving with universal love, singing to the gods, dancing with the muses and bicycling with dreamtime messengers. I like altering my reality through imagination, movement, breath, and makin' stuff.

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