A poem written in the moment, for my husband, this 23rd day of March April. National Poetry Month is quickly ending. I feel like it was swept away from me, and it seems like it lasted so much longer last year. I also believe I'm challenging myself with a higher quantity of "rhyming" poems this year, which is something I can be a little proud of. Joey probably won't read this poem (because he hardly ever reads my blog) but if you read it and you think it's awesome, go pester him on Facebook and tell him to read it. :)
Practice.
hum my husband's hands at his guitar,
deep and a little low,
soft and a little high,
and the sound drifts into me
not too shallow, not too far.
My fingers at the keys here,
hands hard at work but heart hearing,
breathing deep and low,
feeling soft and high,
and patience grows within me
where anxiety left a clearing.
We will live from wall to wall,
hearth to hearth and heart to heart,
loving deep and singing low,
speaking soft and laughing high,
and time will weave inside us
until we can't be told apart.
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