It’s time
to recall 44 years of writing
and rewriting our compact–
this wonder of laughter
and loud words,
sick crying babies,
travel around the world
returning to meals
at home with family.
evenings just for two
on the backporch
watching fireflies,
the dying light.
how do we humans
manage to mate
in tenderness,
such fierceness?
3 thoughts on "It’s time"
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What a lovely poem of love’s journey..
I love the word “fierceness” It encompasses much.
“the dying light” and “fierceness” –wow!