Big, red hearts, worn on sleeves
Open mouths, suspended in shock, anger, the need to finish what they are saying
Ears, the need to be heard.
Footie pajamas. Too much tequila, bike wrecks, knitting in the round,
family, travel, turtles and tortoises and yes, giraffes.
Hugs. Holding hands. Tears of rage, tears of holding it in,
of holding it together, of not being able to keep it together,
tears of knowing someone loves you no matter how much rage you feel.
Girls who cuss too much. Textual tats. Beer. Thanksgiving.
Hound puppies, even though I pray she doesn’t ever get one.
Love that has carried us through lifetimes together, changing,
growing, learning, but always, always, love.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KID!
(This is a spur-of-the-moment love poem. Please be kind.)