Love/getting engaged

Into the Sunrise

The weight and buoyancy of our future

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

We cross the short bridge to the harbour master’s building together. A few palm trees line the sidewalk. Step into a forest of masts. The weight of your ring, our future, in my bag.

Go down the steep gangway. Somehow you’ve gotten below long before me. You’re through the little door before I get on the deck.

So much white around. But I love the ancient look of the wood. The wheel with its spokes. Bare bulb lanterns on the overhead. I can’t believe I’m here.

“Come aboard, my love.” Yes. Permission granted though we don’t own this craft. My hands are full: black duffel bag and a cooler. Heart threatening to leap to the outside. And there’s only subtle waves. A kingfisher, or maybe it’s a brown pelican, flies solo over a yacht.

And then. Going down the steep stairs below. Our private cocoon for the next couple days and nights. Never in my dreams, my love. Never did I see this coming.

You might think it’s cramped. No room to dance below or above. Unless we head for the sidewalk. But here we come to expand. Embrace the other.

Spend time.

“What do you think?”