Please Don’t Forget Me

I hope that when next winter comes around and the rain starts to roll
down on the hills into the sea,
the rain smelling vaguely familiar through your open window screen,
You remember me.

I hope that when summer begins to dawn and the
sun rises earlier in the morning, unpleasantly waking you up
because you were never an early riser
You remember me.

I hope that the next time you make breakfast,
and you realize your coffee is two months too old,
and you find the coffee I shipped to you
sitting inside the upper cabinets above your refrigerator
You remember me.

I hope that the next time you make an international call
and you find my number hiding down the previously called list
with a log of the numerous times we just missed each other’s rings
You remember me.

I hope that the next time you melt into the sands on a beach
and you see seashells scattered around you,
and the thought of the YouTube videos I made you watch comes to mind
You remember me.

I hope that the next time you have Spotify on shuffle
and the random assortment of music I secretly added to your playlist
hums through your car speakers,
You remember me.

I hope that the next time you pick up someone from the airport
and you wait patiently, on the second level parking
and spot someone with the same green suitcase
You remember me.

I find you everywhere I go,
in my breakfast, in airports, in the music I listen to,
and I will always hope that you
find the same nuances being subtle reminders
so please, whatever you do,
don’t forget me.