Tuesday, September 23, 2008

The blustery winter air creeps in the door behind you

As I walk out of the kitchen

I am seeing everything so clearly

You in all of your beauty

Taking your hood off and wiping the fresh snow from your face

Stomping your shoes against the welcome mat

As you hear me say that dinner is ready

It feels like a slow-motion movie scene

As you pick your head up

And look at me

I think about all of the moments like these.

There is a set change for each season,

As I recall in November

The leaves crunched under your boots

And you smelled like pumpkin pie.

In June,

Your dew covered sandals

Rested by the door,

Your lips tasted like honeysuckle

And your hair smelled of lilac.

And for the entirety of March

You looked like heaven.

Hair pulled back,

In your best tee shirt

Shoelaces tapping against the hallway floor

As you rush in to tell me

You just heard the funniest story.

So while you stand in front of me,

And I seem to stare, but not to speak…

These are my memories,

The quiet things I like to keep.

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