To Bring Me Joy

I like to smile;
it brings me joy,
like my fish swimming
in the tank across
the family room in
my parents house.

I like my cat
and the sound of her
calling for something
in her own language
of screeches and meows.

I like macaroni and cheese
straight from the cooking
pot to my lips.
I like things cooked
in toasters; they're
crunchy and pleasant.

I like playing in the water
in mid-August, when it's
90 degrees outside and I
turn my skin red. I like rope
swings into rivers, boats,
and beer on some sand spit
the world forgot.

I like getting in the truck
and driving to the beach
in the middle of the night.
Watching the boats
mimic stars, blinking like
they might go out of style.

I like the sand under my feet;
forgetting where I left my shoes.
I like castles that disappear in
high tides.

I like summer, and
the sunsets I watch
from the back of my horse.
The dirt I gently lift
from his feet, I like how
his hair smells when he's
been in the pasture all
day long.