(I wrote this poem inspired by a friend and her husband. My friend suffered a debilitating stroke about 4 years ago and her husband is so patient and tender and loving with her. It is inspiring to see love lived so completely. But I also wonder about the love that brought them together, and the way her stroke must have changed their marriage so unexpectedly and in so many ways. Out for a morning walk, I saw those stars and the moon and thought of going in to speak those opening lines to my own wife when suddenly I saw the face of my friend and heard the voice of her husband as he gently bent toward her with a kiss. This poem was recently published in Saint Anthony Messenger.)
My love I saw
The moon this early morning
resting in the bare branches
of an oak; three stars pinning
night aloft; the tree,
distinct; the stars
a dipper –perhaps.
Yet in the fading black
I stopped, and watched
to see if they’d become
something more
than a remark I would
later make to the stranger (almost)
who sleeps beside me
and wakes to sit in silence
near the window,
in her chair
or at the table,
wherever she is pushed
right hand trembling
in her lap she waits,
always waits.
I make the coffee
and try to make her smile
raising the cup
to her lips
whispering: my love,
I saw the moon …
