For my aunt Kathy.

Simple Pleasures

By Kelly Grace Thomas


We must count life’s simple pleasures

like just-in case buttons or buried treasure loose change, that hides in well-worn sofas.

Savor the warmth of a tiger-striped cat,

purring on your lap,

 on a wintry silver Sunday.

Adore the crispness of each quickly turned page,

play with plot and

pay thanks to the god of story.

Lick the sea-salt from your lips,

tickle your taste buds

and know that spice has been no stranger.

Trust in tradition, Christmas cookies and campfire sing-a-longs,

these moments, hand stich our patchwork,

build a fortune of memory.

Postcards where the hands of a clock sway

from cruise ships to cozy kitchens to car rides laced with adventure.

The thirst for exploration is perhaps the most sane thing we can own.

Build mountains of faith with each act of discovery.

Remember each part of the globe,

has taught us how to pronounce life a different way.

Thread the needle through the locks of the Panama Canal, to snow-capped Alaska,

to small island, jettied and white sanded, New Jersey.

We watch tides, like family, ebb and flow. Count lighthouses to bring us home.

We must wear these moments, simple pleasures

 like delicate tanzite waterfalls, pulse amethyst ambition.

Wear them around our wrists and above our hearts.