Happy birthday Kaspa!

Fiona writes: Happy Birthday to my husband Kaspa. I'm not making a cake, but if I was I might aspire to something like this.

Instead, a birthday poem. And old one of mine. Hopefully (if we're lucky enough) one day this will be us...

*

As the train slows and stops

he lifts his head from his wife’s shoulder.
One whole side of his face is deep hot pink,
the clay of his cheek has the basket-weave
pattern of her cardigan pressed into it.
He stretches his way out of sleep,
small noises escaping him like moths.
His grown up family are amused.
He scolds them in Spanish, embarrassed,
they only laugh louder.

But his wife sits quietly, her eyes full
of what they have forged between them
from a life-time of witnessing the best
and the worst in each other.

She holds him in a look of such love.

*

Photo by icing-on-the-cake via Creative Commons