Between Us
My husband takes the dog along
to gather the mail.
His grey matching winter’s muzzle,
a retriever seamlessly blending into snow.
The walk to the box is as long as a meadow;
a city block to remember from whence he came.
Once, there was no dog, no country home,
only letters through a slit in the door.
Four bedrooms, one occupied—no children,
no wife.
We are nearly ten years into this game—
we’re still playing.
But that’s not what he’s thinking as I eye
him from the window—the dog flanking his calves.
It’s the distance that excites, it’s the return;
it’s the marrow between us.
Between Us by Deirdre Fagan | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser
$20.00Price
