August 8, 2017

Mine Alone


I've never denied

my wife's an early riser,

getting more done before nine

than most manage all day,

while I move slowly

in the morning,

each hour trying to decide

if my time has finally come,

or if I'd be better off

resting where I am,

leaving the world

as it was, before I came.

You'd think

this would be

a point of contention,

but no.  She walks

her side of the street,

and I walk my own,

and when our paths cross

in her dreams,

at least she knows

how I sleep,

and I know she's still

mine, and mine,

alone.