Tag Archives: laughter

Perfect Love

My granddaughter
puts on her father’s t-shirt
before bed
on this night the whole family
has gathered
in a hotel for the weekend
and when I see her dance
and twirl and laugh
when she sees that the hem
nearly touches the floor
I am 3 again
and for the first time
in over 40 years
I remember what it felt like
to wear that kind of love
like a gown.






“First Steps (After Millet)” by Vincent Van Gogh, 1890




Love, Declined

It truly didn’t matter
how happy we were
sitting on that fallen oak
covered with snow
talking about the things
we’d do come spring
or how perfectly content
you seemed
pinned to the tulip tree
which helped you stand
as I kissed you for the
thousandth time
with no way to know
it would be the last—
all our talks and laughter
and comfortable silences
weren’t right enough
for those words
you whispered in my ear
to mean what I thought
they would mean
when I wanted to know
if we could be more
than just a foolish wish
that wouldn’t come true.