If I had one wish worth fulfilling I would wish the days longer.

I would wish for the sunrise to take its time,

and for the afternoon heat to linger.

And I would suggest that the night wait a while to come creeping in, sprinkling stars and showing off the moon.

I would ask to prolong that evening light, that witching hour where the world seems to glow with the soft golden haze of the sun.

I need more time to bask in it.

And I need more time to get to my work, to do the things I love and do them right. With care. With thought.

Yes, if I had a wish I would wish for more time.

More time.

To linger in embraces.

And kisses.

And not worry about the passing hours and a list impossible to tackle in the time given me in 24.

If I had a wish, I wouldn’t make lists.

I would move through the day knowing that what I get done is good enough.

And I would splash in more puddles.

If the earth spun slower I would take longer walks, I would write more poems, scratch more bellies, take longer baths, and can those tomoatoes already.  

I would spend more time on the back of a horse,

in a conversation with my mother, over pancakes in the morning and in his arms at night.

If the sun would wait to set I would get in my car and drive to see you. I would. I would come with the muffins I baked and the bottle of wine I picked up along the way because I had time to make muffins.

And to pick the perfect bottle of wine.

Because I wished for more time.

I wish.