Do not ask me how I feel about you,
Because I cannot answer that.
Instead ask me what I feel.
I feel warm sunlight.
Ask me how much I feel.
I feel the number of leaves on the gingko tree behind my
old Cambridge apartment.
There were warm, calm days spent across six summers looking up
from my hammock through endless spirals of leaves catching
glimmers of dancing sunshine.
The memory of those days feels the same,
As the way that I feel about you.
My Swelling Heart 
This is just lovely, Lindsay. Thanks for the “follow.” Back atcha! I’ll look forward to reading your posts.
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Oh thank you, Sarah! I look forward to reading more of your poems as well.
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