Dessert
He saved his best stories for dessert
so the family could linger together longer.
He covered court news
and could craft a narrative
deliciously.
(Except the story about being bitten
by a baby copperhead
while hiking barefoot
at Indian Falls–
his family knew that one well,
but for me he saved it
for our first hike there together.)
He always had a plan–
a concert, a camping trip,
a midnight swim in the pond–
was always creating
something he looked forward to sharing,
something he might revise in the moment
like taking his shoes off in the woods
or his clothes off at the pond,
something I could look forward to
like dessert.
3 thoughts on "Dessert"
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Luscious!
Thanks, Linda. I sure miss dessert.
This poem tastes of happiness, but also of longing.