Another One

Another One

“Sparkled air,” you commented, casually

as you peered out our bedroom window

that crisp spring morning. What 

beautiful words, I thought, 

from a beautiful soul. 

Even though

I had no idea what you meant and

I continued to lie rumpled and 

warm in our bed.

These quiet moments 

are the ones I hope I

remember, when I’m old and 

can no longer remember much.

Then I asked for clarification, and heard

you say, “It’s dark over there.” Meaning the

distant sky, where a spring shower

was growing.

And then

we laughed out loud together,

at the lovely silliness of sparkled air. Which 

became a whole other type

of moment, I hope I 

remember.