Tenderhooks
[ID: Text that reads:
“My godfather’s truck was a two-seater
Unfit for a family of four, but that didn’t matter
He carved out space in the back and installed
Two jumpseats for his kids, me nestled snug
In between them, their bodies my seatbelt
This was the nature of living in my hometown
You had to work with what you were given
When you didn’t fit, you made room for yourself
And trusted the people around you to keep you safe
Building rooms onto trailers from plywood
For unexpected blessings who never felt unwanted
Putting lawn chairs in the truck beds
For visiting cousins who needed a ride
There were no trees for tree houses, so
We made do with tents pitched on rooftops
I’m telling you all of this so you’ll understand what I mean
When you worry there’s no space left in my heart
And I say I can make room.”
End ID.]
