She bends over to pick the weeds…
Dirt spotting her knees…
Auburn hair always falling into her face…
That she pushes away with such grace…
I heard her cry last night…
He didn’t call, even though she thought he might…
I hold her from behind and breath her in…
Stop she says, as I see her reflection in the window glass, that hint of a grin…
He’ll call baby…He’s 26 now…
Its just us and these cats you love so with their insanly persistent meows...
And your flowers that grow in beauty like you…
That come back every year as you do to me, each morning as I open my eyes to yours, that remain so blue…
Once you told me, one must work to love…
To see it all the way through…
I have. I am. I will. With you.
Remember when you turned around when I said, \"Are you Michele?\" And then we both knew.