Patrice davie
Ode to love
It’s a hard thing to catalogue the intimate moments of someone you love, of people you love, yet it has to be done to a certain extent to celebrate their life. Exposing the intricacies of relationship, of life, of love.
I can see Tricey sitting up in bed, its not so early, Tom brings in a cup of tea, black, hot. Every morning. She opens an eye and says thankyou and rustles through the bed clothes to sit up. On the bench in the kitchen sit two bowl of cereal at the ready.
This is deep love.
Standing at the bench she looks over the shopping list. Nearly out of cheese. Two plates set for lunch at 12noon. Not too much butter, Tom, watch your heart.
This is deep love.
Bolstered by cushions, watching for the next questions on the TV, answering in time, the debate occurs on who is right. ‘C’, it is ‘C’. Watching. Holding hands. “Sherry?”
This is deep love.
Sleeping side by side, familiar breathing, radio talking quietly.
This is deep love.
I thought you would go first. So did I. Heartbreak. This is deep love.