I want to remember you this way

A poem from the week of January 8

January 10, 2024 8:41 a.m.

I want to remember you this way

sitting under the shade of the coats 
with your bedhead and smile that’s missing
the front tooth you knocked out at the park

in your Christmas pajamas from last year
that are still stained from
that time you played in the mud

you brought your own light with you 
(you always do)

and when I closed the door
the sound of you reading to yourself
slipped through the cracks 

and followed me down the hall

What did you notice this week? What do you want to remember?