Sometimes I get so frustrated
I swear,
one day
I will disappear
like the puff of smoke
my breath becomes
in cold morning air.

This morning though,
marveling at how thick and luscious
your hair looks in direct sunlight,
I am distracted.

As a practical matter there is laundry to fold,
and who is responsible for turning the lights off?
But right at this moment,
standing still,
watching you enter the shower,
steam mystifying the sumptuous layers you’ve acquired,
I take off my tee-shirt to join you.

I know how you want us to go,
slowly,
slowly,
at your pace,
and that’s alright with me.

After you depart,
leaving me alone to navigate
through the lusty vapor,
I am surprisingly okay with that too.

Truly, you amaze me,
how you move in and out of my life,
evaporating into mist,
then suddenly,
like coastal fog over the ocean,
returning just before the moon rises.

Linda Joy Walder