The extension and the silence
We know how this works
Clockwork
Morning snuggles on the mattress
Nine pounds of rumbling orange fur draped across my torso
Sixty-six solid pounds of dirty dog pressed to my legs, lightly snoring
This is new: he can look me in the eyes
On our sides in lamplight
Afterward we ate scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns on the couch
They have won another game
I wish he would read me
There's the tenderness
Sweatshirts on the grey chair in disarray
White egrets melting into rain
You've kept me company in this place
What's in the large paper bag on top of the dresser
The swimsuit hangs from the door handle, unused since August - Adirondack hot tub
Adulthood is feeling behind all the time
Losing ourselves, mowing the lawn, and feeding the dog on time
I miss biking through the farmlands
Miss my mountain climbs, water soundtrack
Miss my sister and my brother
It's Hanna's birthday soon
Without a shift, it's probably time to let go
I drink coffee every morning now
Maybe it's been me all along
When did it get to be late October