BARRY GRAHAM POETRY

marriage

I. Worst winter in quite a while: the guy who delivered our calor gas was frantic, rushed off his feet. “Never been so busy. And the other boy I work with’s went and got himself arrested — driving without a licence.” We sympathised while he put the gas in our heater and then he ran down the stairs to his van, too busy to be cold.

II. The living room warmed by the oven, door open, grumbling of gas; we’ll sleep in here tonight, on the couch that folds down, duvets brought through from the bedroom where we could see our breath. My wife asleep already, ferocious body warming the duvets; me in a chair, reading, in a tartan scarf and red ski hat.

#poetry #zen #love #marriage

She is getting in bed when she realises she is out of the half-and-half she takes in her morning coffee. He is still dressed. He tells her he’ll walk to the market and get some for her.

The market is two blocks from their apartment. As he walks, he looks up and sees stars

that have not existed since before he was born. They did not know their light would travel so far.

He finds the half-and-half, selects two cartons, stands in line at the checkout. Light of dead stars, her asleep now in their home. Coffee she will drink when she wakes. A journey

of two blocks in the universe.

#poetry #love #marriage #zen #astrophysics