Many Years Later

~ SW Altair

You still sit beside me as I rested after a long day, 
brushing my hair out of my face.

At dusk we go into the kitchen, 
you wash the lettuce and tell me about your day,
I laugh, forget things, and cut carrots into funny shapes.

And there are breadcrumbs and spilled wine on the tablecloth,
we still haven’t quite figured out how to be better at this,
but in the fading sunlight we are learning, God we are learning.

Before falling asleep
I look for your hand to touch mine.

Love is not difficult.
Not difficult at all.

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Published by SW Altair

16 thoughts on “Many Years Later”

  2. I’ve been really trying to capture this sentiment, as a longing—somewhere between fantasy and remembrance; but ambiguous about whether the experience is real—for a bonkers project. Any [headspace] tips?

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      1. Not so much inspiration, but near as dammit. You know when you read a word, or phrase, or someone says something that just “makes sense,” and unlocks everything. I’m looking for one of those keys—just to make what I’m trying a little easier—not that I mind the work.

        If you’ve got some poems you reckon are in the ballpark, I’d appreciate it, danke.

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