"I Sing the Body Optimistic"

It’s been three weeks

without a panic attack.

We hold hands

in the botanical garden. The truck

with the confederate flag

bumper sticker screeches

to a reluctant stop at the red

after I zoom through the yellow.

I am learning

for the sake of learning,

and growing

out of spite. My dad teaches

me how to put oil in my car

over FaceTime and I stop

drinking coffee.

The sun comes out.

Life constantly surprises

me with how beautiful

it can be when you

aren’t looking. There’s still so much

to do. My voice shakes

but I use it anyway.

You give the spring new colors,

and we slow dance

down by the creek,

where nobody

but the squirrels can see us.

I put a new photo of you

in my wallet and I don’t

cry when I call

my parents anymore.

The sun comes out.

We go out to lunch, happy,

hopeful: I make a

mental note of the moment.

I take a snapshot with clear eyes.

I remember everything.