by Richard Vince

There was nothing special about
That moment: crouching on
A tiled floor that could be in
Any kitchen in the world,
Doing something so everyday that
It could be anything, dressed
For summer comfort, hair left
To lie where it landed
This morning, eyes raised to meet
Those of your love.

There was nothing special about
That moment except that
You were perfect.


Posted on 08/15/2023
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/15/23 at 02:15 PM


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