On This, the Occasion of the Anniversary of my Ninth Year of Marriage: A Study of Haiku

awake. i roll o’er,

amidst a sea of covers,

and see your bare skin.

 

you say i steal the

blankets. after nine years, you’d

think i’d learn to share.

 

into the kitchen.

chips, open on the counter,

and i roll my eyes.

 

lights left on, glasses

left for dogs to spill, asking:

“are you mad at me?”

 

a million ways to

irritate each other, and

yet: we’re still standing

 

leaning on the love

that outlasts fights and ire and

everything but us.

 

nine years ago, my

best friend became my husband.

a ceremony,

 

vows, a kiss, a dance.

what god joined then, let

none put asunder.

 

nine years ago, a

white dress and a tux and some

promises we made

 

equal a life, in

spite of open bags, stolen

sheets and rolling eyes.

 

thanks be to god for

the little things: hugs, meals shared,

peace won, books read, trips,

 

a mowed lawn, our dogs,

dinner on the porch at dusk,

a brush of our hands.

 

this is what marriage

should feel like: simplicity,

fullness, joy, honor.

 

the gratefulness for

a life well-lived overwhelms,

and i sit in awe

 

at how two people

become more like one each day;

a miracle, really.

 

and here stands my truth:

my life is better because

you, love, are in it.

 

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