Growing Us
Sonnet
I’ve been working on this poem since Paris.
We grew inside that greenhouse restaurant,
twisting roots together while we shared
a supper and some quiet, hopeful thoughts.
Our string of hearts has only grown since then,
falling from the ceiling to the floor, each bud
blossoming into a new delight. We were friends
meeting up at Scholar’s Inn to study,
then maybe more than that when I finally asked
if I could put my arm around your shoulders
while the stars were dancing at the IMAX,
and now we’ve vowed to share a pot as we grow older.
We’ve got the cats and dogs, the plants and yard —
our garden’s taking off in all directions.
A person doesn’t have to work too hard
to see the many fruits of our affection.
Why worry about the fall — how leaves will blush?
Instead, I think I’ll cherish growing us.
