Outside, I open a letter just arrived.
This friend has not written in some while
but I have not moved homes in so long,
it reaches me just the same.
I have not moved in so long,
my legs are napping.
I stretch out in the sunshine.
Untouched by grass.
Rested on sun-soaked concrete,
draped in soft blanket.
From here, I can see inside.
Inside,
where my love is making something beautiful.
Today is something beautiful, too,
but we can take no credit
for skies so blue.
I start my letter back
with stunning truth:
Thank you for your letter.
Nothing more extraordinary than this has happened
in a good,
long while.
