This left me hushed, as though I had stumbled into something sacred.
Your words unfold like morning light across familiar skin: tender, undemanding, deeply human.
I felt the ache of time and the miracle of still choosing, still reaching even as the foxgloves sway and the body changes.
Your poem reminded me of the stories I write, where love is not perfection but the knowing of another’s echoes: the arthritic ankle, the shifting soil, the flicker of a light we almost didn’t see.
Thank you for this. For reminding us that love, too, is a kind of ripening.
From one who writes of shadow-lit devotion and quiet mornings, too.
And what a gentle note to return to… like sunlight warming the teacup I forgot beside my writing chair. Thank you for weaving such tenderness into the morning. Some poems don’t end; they echo quietly all day.
beautiful
Thank you.
“As the foxgloves tower,
dangerously swaying,
seeds emanating from
argumentative flowers….”
Lovely and deep and well thought and written. Thank you, Judi
It is a beautiful thing how simple gratitudes can grow, deepen, and preserve love. So many beautiful moments here.
I can't even describe how incredibly timely and helpful this is. Thank you for sharing this beautiful reminder of longevity
I am glad it has helped you in some way. Thank you
Great peace. I’ve been through something similar. I hope we can stay in the place we’ve got back to. It took a while.
The ebb and flow of long-term love
A sound next to a poignant calm. Greatness echoes.
This left me hushed, as though I had stumbled into something sacred.
Your words unfold like morning light across familiar skin: tender, undemanding, deeply human.
I felt the ache of time and the miracle of still choosing, still reaching even as the foxgloves sway and the body changes.
Your poem reminded me of the stories I write, where love is not perfection but the knowing of another’s echoes: the arthritic ankle, the shifting soil, the flicker of a light we almost didn’t see.
Thank you for this. For reminding us that love, too, is a kind of ripening.
From one who writes of shadow-lit devotion and quiet mornings, too.
What a wonderful comment to wake up from. Thank you
And what a gentle note to return to… like sunlight warming the teacup I forgot beside my writing chair. Thank you for weaving such tenderness into the morning. Some poems don’t end; they echo quietly all day.
So many lines with lovely imagery but I really like the word ombre to discribe the colors of morning sun:
where the sun ombres
the beginning of the day
Beautiful poem. 🦋✨
Incredibly moving and beautiful simplicity.
So beautiful time passing with love
this moved my heartstrings
This is stunning imagery. I love this stanza:
"I know the intimate details
of your lesser-known life
the crack of your knee
my arthritic ankle
its echo.
The ever-changing terrain
of forms and fold
of curves and crest."
That there is love:)
Lovely
Beautiful poem to long term connection. I rejoice with you. Maria