Gratitude

   
   
The coffee threatens    
to jump from the    
oversized mug    
that my trembling    
hands struggle    
to negotiate.  
   
you put a blanket    
over my shoulders    
and sit next to me    
   
and we stare without words
at some dreamscape,    
like a forlorn shore    
or an autumn forest in a    
Carolina park,    
   
I sigh heavily    
and you nod    
in my peripheral vision    
   
and we get it.    
   
soft breezes    
move my hair    
just enough    
to make it tickle    
my face    
and at some point    
you push it over my shoulder    
so it doesn’t drag    
in my coffee.    
   
We don’t make eye contact.    
   
and a gull, or a robin,    
or a something,  
sings a tune that    
makes the    
hole in my stomach    
shiver    
   
I sigh heavily  
and you nod.    
   
We sip coffee    
silently    
against a    
thought-filled    
soundtrack    
   
I move    
just enough    
so that    
your shoulder    
touches mine    
   
and it’s enough.