‘Long Love’

He laced up his sneakers
and left for a jog
as raccoons stumbled

from trash cans back
to the woods at dawn.

Soon the house was awake.
His wife fixing lunches,
boys slurping oatmeal.

He raced the three boys to the bus
and walked back home
whistling and wondering

if today was a day
for making love.

Back in the kitchen, he talked
with his wife about the dead
robin he’d found on

the walkway and how he’d fix
the broken knob on her dresser.
It looked like love

would wait another day. He picked
up his briefcase, stepped
to the door, then spun around

with one last joke that set off
laughter that caught their eyes,
and sent them upstairs,

and under their quilts, with boots off
and shirts off, to sandalwood,
sweat, and rose water.

*             *           *            *

By and by, they woke
to the crash of trash cans
flung in the street below.

They dressed again, this time
for good, with pink
in their cheeks, and a great

excuse for showing up
late to work.

 

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Jane Schulman is a speech pathologist working in a Brooklyn, New York City public school with autistic and emotionally-disturbed children.  She writes poetry and short fiction. She recently took Dai George’s Online Feedback Course at the Poetry School.