Thursday, September 15, 2016

There is a time

There is a time in our marriage 
when the days move between us 
so sweetly, with such peace, they leave 
no footprint. 
They have the faint feel of dreams. 
They seem like mere glimpses into dreams. 
Mornings of cheese omelettes.
Afternoon strolls by the truth filled lake.
Microwaved leftovers for dinner 
in our laps by the TV.
He is the sauce 
and I the pasta. 
He is the Clint Eastwood movie 
and I am the popcorn. 
Now he is the water 

and I am the eyes.