When I met you I was —

I try to remember

the person who walked with

my face. Before there was

you, it was a different time

of day. The sun scattered in

other patterns through windows

on opposite sides of a house.

There are very nice pleasures

at dawn, a bright morning. Also

golden hours. And long evenings.

Here we are at the clear hour of

a blameless summer day.

We’ve already set our habits.

You’ve had your coffee, cooked

my breakfast. I stretched,

reached for a few kisses, and off

we step, palm to palm, down from

the front porch stoop, and into

our lives we choose

again and again.