morning poem, June 6, 2016

In the living room
A couch, half as old as the house
And afternoon light and quiet
Before the white noises of
Radio and air conditioning.

Her footfalls in the kitchen sound.
The newspaper is spread
On the coffee table

The day is warm
But the windows are open
And sunlight and breeze
Spill down the hallway.

She thinks of hours to come
This day’s dinner and laundry
He thinks of years past
The night they danced
The night he ventured and won.

copyright 2016

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