Gifted

You taught me to hug hard.
To feel for things softly.
That to let go does not have to mean to leave.

I showed you how to text, but you taught me the art of it.
I smile because you have made me laugh.
In every tradition we now have-
you have taught me to accept that somethings do get repeated.

I learnt that there are drive by windows and drive by hugs.
I have steered us clear of road medians,
and I now know that an ice cap is the start of long night.

I can see our iced coffee's half empty in my cup holder
and tell exactly how our last nights conversation went.
Who spoke and who just chewed at the straw.

You have taught me that it's OK to want to run.
As long as it's in circles.
And maybe to watch you get your hairs pulled.

You have taught me things I thought I knew.
And now I know better.

You have showed me how to cook all night,
keep three jobs,
toast marshmallows on a stove top,
fly a kite,
and fall so fast asleep- you pass out.

The greatest gift you have given me is the way you run to me.
Like, as if, I could possible be worth something.
...to someone.