skyfall

Slowly this
morning I
woke up.

It was light
but gray with
the rain softly

strumming the
window. Two
dachshounds

wedged on either
side of my body.

From a deep sleep
the whole
day felt like

pajamas and warm
socks. My husband

comes home from the
yoga class he taught.

Kisses my forhead.
We listen to the
rain together,

hold hands, debate
if we want to cook
breakfast or go out.

The rain is cold and
consistent but the
bakery restaurant is
warm.

We get decaf cappuccinos,
chocolate cake, poached eggs
with salmon, hot soup and
spinach pie. He holds

my hand across the
table. The rain

falls and the sky
shudders. He tells me
the story of his first

trip to Las Vegas in
1995. His friend puked
in the fountain at some
strangers wedding and

the next day he rented
a convertible sports car
to drive to the Grand Canyon

except
it was raining and
hailing the whole way
and

when they got to it
the canyon was all full
of a cloud and you
couldn’t see anything.

I laughed
so hard at
breakfast today

holding his hand.

We came home and
went back to sleep.

The rain continues
as the wind kicks up.
It was a happy

storm.

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