I am.

I am Sydney
The smell of fresh ground coffee in the morning
The orange scented face lotion my mother wore
And salty waves lapping upon the shore
I am the sound of rain tapping rhythmically on the windowpane
The crunch of autumn leaves under the soles of my tattered black shoes 
And wind whistling through the trees
I  am the feeling of smooth white keys
Dancing under my fingers 
The feeling of ink gliding across a fresh page
The way wet clay sticks to your hands, forming something beautiful under gentle touch
I am the taste of crispy cookie edges and green tea with lemon
The first sip of ice cold water on a hot day
The taste of mint chocolate ice cream pressed between two sets of lips 
I am the colors of a Colorado sunrise
A smile twitching at closed lips
A new perspective after a good night's sleep
I am
This poem is about: 


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