If you ever lose your Peace again (Poem)

Peace —

a rainy day,

a cozy room,

the brewing of ginger tea,

the warmth on a winter day,

green fields in june,

cobblestone streets,

jazz echoing through a cafe,

brownstones, cottages,

pastel-colored homes,

movies on a night-time flight,

the taste of colombian coffee,

lizards beatboxing en callejones,

nostalgia running up the block

of 136th street

riverside sprinklers,

harlem,

smell of burning charcoal,

spanish ballads on the radio,

jars full of arcor candies,

jolly rancher stix

hidden in

dominican delis,

wind blowing

on the freeway,

napping under the sunlight,

journalling

complex thoughts

trusting God will hear

the small drops

over the ink on paper,

over glassed-tinted car

windows,

imagining

myself

as a protagonist

of a music video

2000s

rocking baby phat

outfits —

takes me

back to those good

old days.