Reading · Portfolio Octopoda/o

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Not just true love,
But long love.
Morning after morning of rising
To coffee, two eggs, fried
And chit chat. A caress in the small
Of the back and the peck of joy
In knowing, and being
In the same room
When the night comes

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Has it been thirty? Maybe forty?
Does it matter?
Time blossoms in your face
As a rose, or perhaps the explosion
Of sun behind the clouds at sunrise
Over the Atlantic on the first day
Of marriage. The light paved
A lava path across the waves.
Your heartbeat and my heartbeat,
Your breath and my breath, sill
the light binds us.
Years are not important.  Only
That we journey
Together.

Note: My wife and observed our 38th wedding anniversary last month. We dressed as if going out, but instead made omelettes out of left overs, and drank a little champagne. Love has different phases—the passion and uncertainty of courtship (what most love stories are about) is exciting, but the long-sustaining day-to-day tenderness is what is most valuable.

Note: The picture is that of my maternal grandmother’s hand on my grandfather’s shoulder. They were celebrating their sixtieth anniversary.

Two Love Poems for the Long Married

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