Poems From The Porch
I adjusted the blinds to see the sunrise from my cozy bed this morning.
The light shone pink, and then yellow.
After a while, a warm body returned to snuggle—
a delicious, feather-downed, October Saturday.
This same being issued an invitation to me to leave the soft luxury of the bed
for another warmth—coffee and campfire on the porch.
He remarked, as we were sitting companionably together,
that this is the place he wants to be on a crisp day like today.
We spoke of Autumn colors,
and he reminisced about playing flag football in a field like the one before us.
Every once in a while, he got up to add another piece of wood,
lovingly split from fallen branches of years past,
to stoke the fire of this present moment
—his love notes written tenderly to me.