It’s our anniversary today. It’ll be a quiet celebration, heart-felt just the same. We’re together and that’s what counts. I wrote this poem for our fortieth and it still holds true …
did we trade rings and glasses
for a valley of marmots
before champagne and children
with a missing pair of shoes?
or was it an incense of prayers
mixed with dawn milking and skates?
do you remember the length of the vow
and how it soars on a spinnaker wind?
all I believe is the speaking
and the chorus of years that we travel
published in Lucid