In Praise of Little Things					

realizing on July 2 
there are six more hours of daylight
than this day in January, slow dancing

in the kitchen, short person's head
fits beneath my chin, barefooting,
music in our heads, walking

hand in hand down Las Ramblas,
first time in Barcelona, stopping
at a tapas bar, eating baby octopus

served six different ways, being warm
in the house we built together
each winter when the snow falls,

red fox emerging from the woods
at the back of our house, wearing
white surgical mask with black nose,

in two weeks I will turn eighty-two,
I can still dance in the kitchen, the rhodos
have finished blooming, tiger lilies

exploding, in front of Notre Dame
we feed the pigeons, sitting on a bench,
statue of Charlemagne looming above,

learning about opera, watching Brunhilde
lead the ride of the Valkyries, trying
to stop humming the damned song,

taking poetry classes on Zoom,
thinking ahead to Barcelona,
next year the fat lady will sing again,

nibbling on your ear in the kitchen
while we are dancing, I think tonight
might be rigatoni and good red wine.  


		(First published in Living our Blessings - 2025)