Amanda Moore

If it comes back, I’m done
with clean living, done with greens
and positive thinking. No more
hats, no more sunscreen, nix
the meditation app. Once the wonderings
and what-ifs are settled, I’ll eat a steak
from any old cow, wash it down
with a milkshake. I’ll refuse
vitamins, rethink my early bedtime,
eschew herbs, sub whiskey
for green tea.

If it takes my horizons,
I’ll take back my hope.

But I’ll keep today:
his even pace and the energy
of our daughter beside us
as we walk along the ocean:
its endless churn
the treasures overturned
at the lip of tide, this place
where we and the sand
are the same infinite and small.