Monday, May 30, 2005


Sun peaks when I leave the office
drive up the gravel driveway, tulips red, white
under the stained porch. you stand underneath
the light, an angel, mine, waiting for her hero
tapping your foot in time, smells of cheese and blueberries
streaming from the kitchen
our son in your hands-his face full of pride at his old man.
the way things should have been.


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