Over Coffee: For My Wife On Her Birthday

I ask her a question so dumb
That I immediately laugh to myself:

“What do you dream about?”
She answers with a light laugh,

A smile bright as all spring’s
Proud Azaelas: “To work

With flowers.” A simple
Dream maybe, but with

Words light and wet
As morning dew on pink

Petals, she reminds me
Once again of why I fell

So Hard for her. I kiss
Her lips and hold her

Close to my heart.
All black earth’s gems

darken at the fleeting
Light’s rays and colors

Of her dreams shop.
I could live there with her.

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