Valentine

Well, this absence of tiny red hearts,
with a presence of snow salted gray,
and battling middle-age meltdown,
has allowed for some bittersweet work.

Thank God.

A seasoned relationship
dines on life’s rechauffe
with spices
unique to the union,
relishing the table talk,
always fresh, often saucy.

Shy the treacly desert.

Published by

r.Douglas

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.