Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Poem: February 2, 2019

Home

All I know is there isn't much
I'd rather do than be home with you.

Making tacos in the kitchen
or laughing at the cats,

or gathered together watching shows
and listening to you laugh.

Even just lying in bed,
hearing you move in the other room

is so much better than a distant place,
a party scene, a cocktail hour.

I prefer when we remember the hush
of turning pages and shuffling cards.

The two of us, you know, and a worn old house.
The kids and the cats, too, all moving the dust.


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