I look up from my sewing and watch,
as you sit by the fire,
working on some piece of gear
our son broke,
trying to figure out some way
to mend the wood and cord
and make it right.
I watch the firelight
reflected in your silver hair,
and how your right ear twitches
as you concentrate, unsure.
As you growl in your frustration,
it reminds me of our days past,
how you struggled to make things right,
and I think back to the boy you were once,
innocent and shy
underneath the anger and bravado –
how you took my breath away,
the first time I saw you,
and something inside of me knew
that you were worth the pain
and the frustration,
and the hurt.
And in the end, time proved me right.
Somehow, you solve the puzzle in your hands,
and as the wood clicks into place,
you look up at me,
as if embarrassed by the growls.
I put my sewing to the side,
and leaning forward,
scoot to your side,
and kiss you softly.
“What was that for?” you ask, surprised,
as your arm settles around my waist.
“Just because,” I reply,
and relax against you,
in this place where life is right..