December 2, 2022

On Our 8th Anniversary (11/25)

I love your kind, tender, 
funny, endearing heart -- 
A man who loves his moving 
bodies of water as much as 
he loves living things—
like the star of new growth 
at the top of a lacy Norfolk pine --

I love your playfulness, 
your sly quiet comments, 
your deliberate malaprops --
and how hard it is to make you 
break into that silent,
body-shaking laugh of yours.

I love that you cut a hole 
in a perfectly good fence
to allow baby bunnies
a means of escape 
when the red-shoulder hawk
commandeers our yard.

I love your light touch --
afraid to hug too hard,
your arms too strong. 
I love how you know things
that you don't parade
and I still must discover.
I love that you called my dad,
three thousand miles away
-- a man you had never met --
to ask for my hand.

I love that I wore red,
and you wore Jerry Garcia –
and our brick chapel
was as warm as the day 
was cold and gray:
two simple candles, 
a few flowers,
and lots and lots of light.