Back Porch Reverie

You sit gazing
Into the distance.
You’ve been silent
Though perhaps
Not at peace.

I almost interrupted
About to intrude
To prod your reverie
But thinking better of it
Held my peace.

If you choose
You will tell me.

I do not expect
To always be in your thoughts.
Nor do I hope
To be in their majority.
It is enough
To share the quiet
To breathe the same air
With you.

As a much younger man
I believed I must dominate
A woman’s mind.
How foolish, such narcissism.
Now
On the precipice
Of real age
All I hope is inclusion.

I would reach for your hand
Inches from my own.
By simple touch
I could draw you back.
You would turn to me
Smiling
Inquisitive.
But even such honest touch
May be imposition.

There is no need
I be a hulking presence
In your thoughts
Your vision
Or even your heart.

In awhile
You will shake your head
Returning to me.

You will softly smile
An unnecessary apology
Your hand folding into mine.

I will hold your gaze a bit longer
Than usual.

You will sigh and say
“Where was I?”

And I will kiss you.