in the golden hour

I don’t want a big life, 
but I don’t want a 
small life either. 
I want a calm, happy, 
fulfilled life, 
which is one I 
doubt I’ll ever have.

Can you believe it
when I tell you I
want my parent’s life?
That I want their 
quiet, steadfast love,
their iron belief 
in each other?

I spent so many
years trying to
run from them 
telling myself this
is the worst
that can happen to me
and I was so wrong.

It would be the best thing
to go to bed and never
wonder whether 
the one you love 
wants to hold you.

It would be the best
for every day to end
with a summer night.
Back door open, 
shucking corn on the cob,
winding down a day
in that perfect golden hour,
that one space in time
when I can believe 
we’ll make it.

Today’s poetry prompt words were: big, can you believe it, and corn on the cob.

_{Photo by Dawid Zawiła on Unsplash}