For more than half of my lifetime
I have slept here, in the crook
your body makes,
our breathing
mingling in the air
above this bed,
bought, in the beginning,
at an auction,
bidding more than we had in the bank,
the tall, carved headboard
like a treehouse
in a forest.
No matter how wide
our separate days might open up,
the night invites us
to this tender resolution,
falling softly through
the rims of dreams,
reaching, it seems
even against our waking wills,
for one another.
-- Deb Cooper