POEM - That Old Feeling, the One that Bugs the Children

Don’t talk too much about why we should be better

It won’t do and all the mist between

Means you and I don’t remember

Not perfectly

Not quite right on target

The details get mussed and tousled

The better version of the story

Involves mussed and tousled

But the details are more intimate

I know I shouldn’t tell that story

It isn’t right at our age

To pretend we were young

To make our children squirm

With kisses and snuggles

Right out in the open

In the middle of dinner

In the middle of a bite

In the middle of your neck

In that spot below your ear

That makes the gooseflesh appear

On both arms

At the same time

And on a good day

The effect travels

All the way

Down each leg

And earns retaliation

A punch in the arm

Cuz I give you the shivers

This is what keeps us brave

Gnarled old warriors

Still willing to sacrifice

Our love drawn and quartered

On full display

Wounds and nerves

Raw and exposed

Dangling tenuously

Clasped at the hands

Holding tight

Against falling

Against pulling apart

Suspended and spinning

We are mostly unaware

That we shouldn’t be this happy

That this isn’t

Strictly speaking

An attractive set of circumstances

These two old bags of skin

Adorned in dumpy dingy linens

Covering ourselves

To protect the innocents

So, let’s kiss again

At least we can still do that

Like we did in Hayden Square

When I finally had the ring

Made it official under the gazebo

You said yes one more time

After the Spaghetti Co.

And the walk down Mill

And finally kneeling down

            Like I should have the first time I asked