Prose: she and me

Backgrounder: “Two weeks ago my wife and I drove to Fenelon Falls together - a four-hour drive - to help take care of new twin grand-daughters. Shortly after arriving my wife of nearly 40 years was elbow-deep in diapers, bottles, formula, and lovely chatter with our son, daughter-in-law and Anna and Ella. I couldn’t help but think of our life together.” gaharrison

she and me

the whine of the bandsaw
the smell of fresh-cut cedar
and fine sawdust in his hair,
I notice them all
when I step into my
old husband’s workshop.
check under your hood, lady?
he says after he looks my way.


he always says that
he always says that
he always says that and
means the same thing
as when he first said it
forty years ago.
he smiles and trips
a familiar switch
inside my chest -
he and me.

***

she always knocks
on the screen door of my shop
before she steps inside.
she always knocks and
sometimes I jump - startled -
lost in thought.


check under your hood
seems the right thing to say
before she smiles and asks
if I’d like to stop for tea.
my throat is dusty,
tea would be fine,
I nod.

***

later, we spend time together.
we sit in comfortable chairs
inside my workshop,
we talk almost a perfect shorthand
and with rhyming tones.
we almost breathe as one
we almost breathe as one
she and me.

gah

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