“The One Who Returns” by Amye Nicole Bird

It is a quarter past ten
And I'm still wide awake,
As I creek slow in the rocker
Penning a poem
To my lover
My friend.

He is the one who comes forth,
Returns to me always,
Body weary from toil,
Hands blistered,
Mind worn,
At the end of days course.

You'd think me a queen
Dressed up in my bed gown,
Lacy and white,
Long and devine,
Softly coming alive
Beneath the lamps dimming gleam.

Then I hear his footfalls outside,
My waiting heart quickens
As the lock turns with a key.
He's home safe and sound,
And can't be quick enough
To be again at my side.

Alas, in the doorway he stands,
A husband with smile
And a gentleness saved,
To again take us back
To our own quiet place
To lay side by side, hand in hand.