a poem a day for a year #173

by Amy Turn Sharp


I had that first real summer night drive
the one that means
this is happening
arm hanging out of window
music screaming
the trees go green rush past me
whispering
last year's memories
my hair is wind
I am so happy
all of the days of the year
point
to this moment
this warm delirious night
this evening that I kiss
gentle and slow 
and then forget about 
until next year
when I remember
how wonderful it really is to live