Twelve Years

In a Chinese restaurant, with our group of friends,
we were sitting next to each other. And, amongst the joy and giddiness, I wanted to hold your hand -- like the old Beatles tune -- as if we were buddies who knew each other well. After dinner, after the group hugs, we walked the Plaza, you and I, and slipped into The Cafe where I introduced you to Soy Lattes and you paid. And I told you that, when we were sitting at the round table of friends, the air saturated with laughter, I wanted to hold your hand. And then, over the Lattes, you said,      "Go ahead"       and I did. The first exciting soothing touch of a long relationship. Skin to skin, smiling, eyes unafraid to see each other's soul. And there, in the coffee shop, we fell in love.

Conversation

The first thing, I noticed

your shampoo missing.
I noticed
your toothbrush
missing and then
your razor and knew, finally,
I was to get my own.
You were gone, had left. This
evening I ate with no comment
the salmon
you usually cooked.
One wineglass on the drying rack.
I pictured you walking
the dog but the dog was here.
"We miss you," I said. "Oh,
really?" you said.

Valentine's Day

Even though empty
they are on their way.
In from the sun now
a blinding light
on oak kitchen floor.
The sun of our summer garden
fragrant English roses
Missouri flowers of earthy scent.
Empty but on their way
into the house where mud
makes trouble
for rugs of ancient Asia.
Undoubtedly, the feet of us
are happy and close in
our place of agreed choice
freedom and love.
I found you and you saw me.
Surprised, yes.
Prepared, yes.
Here, Valentine's Day.