This Is How Our Love Will Be

I'm never sure just where you are in this settling house--too big now,
too big now, too hollow for two.  We share less often our destinations;

our wants

direct us to different rooms; and once there we'll imagine no need

to renew our vows.  You'll think of me as you rearrange your

signature

bouquet--rosemary and zinnias; I'll fall into your nana's chair and
open a book of your poems--fanning its pages, stopping for dog-ears.

As August rain thrums our windows, we'll meet up in the mud room,
tryst in the tick-tink of laundered buttons and snaps--always,
there are things to be ironed and put away--while someone on the

radio sings"

This is how our love will be.

(c)Allen M. Weber                                    

published in Skipping Stones 2007

and in Lock Raven Review