Coffee in hand, you invite me
into your room, under the covers
by the window, to share your morning view –
pale pink roses soft in the mist, early light
shifting through the cypress trees.  

When were we last in the same bed?   

You ask if today I would like to go
to your favorite bakery then to an art fair
then take the dog for a run on the beach
then visit an old general store up the mountain,
finish with an outdoor meal in the redwoods.    

I say yes and yes and yes,
but if my trip ended right this moment
I would feel content.