Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Back in the day

Those sweet mornings I wake up 
to everything or nearly that, 
close enough,
and know it's nearly everything, 
know it trembling, in gratitude, 
too modest by nature 
to ask for anything more, having had less, 
much less, 
I sit at the table at Al's, famous for 
big plates--
Denver omelettes with hash browns served 
on turkey platters--
facing him, my handsome newly-wed 
who reaches across the table and cups 
my hand in his two 
as if mine were a butterfly he captured, 
cupping it so carefully 
not wanting to harm it, 
and there are no words, 
having no room to form 
in our hyper-satisfied brains, 
we don't speak or move
until steaming platters set down 
and our hands return to our own bodies.