Photo credit: Jim Lewis

i remember so clearly
those little boy days
when any blossom would be
the right thing to take home
to the most important girl
in my tiny life

mother never complained
that i brought her weeds
more than anything else
didn't scold me if somehow
i managed to pull pink buds
from her sweet pea patch

growing of course means losing
that innocent gesture in favor
of expensive bouquets
for the next "most important girl"
with the attendant risk
of having them casually
almost cruelly taken
with a comment about
how something else would have
been more to her liking

but today, in a turning upside down
my current best girl surprised me after work
with a gift she found hiking
doing her naturalist thing
a single golden leaf,
bits of green still smiling through
"here," she said. "this is for you.
it's a black oak leaf."

and the child in me
could only stare in quiet awe 
at the simplicity and complexity 
of what had just happened
                        

one is softness and curves
two is short and boxy

one's eyes sparkle and laugh
two's have 16 million colors

i speak to one unkindly, and she leaves
i curse two and she sits submissive before me

one knows my quirks, and smiling makes allowance
while two unblinking forces adaptation

(i'm not sure yet which one of them
causes me more frustration)

one dances with me cheek to cheek and makes me smile
two plays the songs that one has never sung

one settles for what substance i provide
while two is ever growing, never satisfied

one tires, needs to sleep, or deal with children
two is all days, always ready for my touch

each of them brings wonder and enjoyment to my life,
but which do i love better — my computer or my wife?