Poem for her 441

Dear Readers,


The doorbell

The doorbell rang and you sat in bed
You got up wondering who it was
The door was one of that other house
The lock not easy to open
There was a shape at the door
Then when you opened it
I stood there
The dream was fading fast
As you told it to me
This day in spring
When the temps rocked back and forth
The dream was of you and me
Meeting once back then
The house on a sunday
The house just you
Then I arrived
Making the day
Something different than it was
The dream though faded now
Still has pull
Because of a parking lot
And the snows
And the kisses
And the dew in the backyard
And me still saying

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.