Here’s a poem written by me for my husband. Happy (early) Valentine’s Day, Jimmy!
You are making french toast as I write.
You’ve put coffee on, and then you leave
a hot cup by my side with the cream still swirling.
You sing along with such sincerity
to one of the horrible TV music stations
as I write. You think I have a gift.
All I have
that you don’t have
to make breakfast and coffee
and know all the words
to an unmemorable Springsteen song.