Your Mix

Crouched on the floor, repotting
Remixing the soil with new taste
Your hands dirty the tape leaving
cracks, hissing, & pops a plenty

The planter filled with new kinds
Of flowers, succulents, and herbs
A chance to record a bit of who
We were when the track dropped

The cassette sits fading in the sun
Growing on me each time we play
It wasn’t what I thought it would
be, but I’m surprised each season
How I come to love it again