Waking each morning,
I could hear you downstairs,
fixing that first mild cup,
your quiet step mindful
of Saturday morning,
lawnmowers not grumpy yet,
the neighbors respecting
the last warm days.
Out on the porch I’d find you,
settled in with peanut butter toast,
a wan look on your pretty face,
the leaves of fall
whispering by the screened
porch, your foot pushing against the floor
to move the swing,
yellow, gold, red,
autumn colors
matching your silk robe.
Such a cinematic and evocative quality to this tender snapshot, Larry. A tangible affection in this one - hope it's not just the stimulation of the whiff of coffee! Sublime, thank you, Kate xx
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