Today is the Summer Solstice -- the longest day of the year. We celebrated with a great meal at a small mom n pop restaurant in the desert. Here is today's poem.
Tonight at dinner
aging couples, nimble, once vigorous
sip what used to be swallowed.
I felt young and full of teeth
surrounded by sagging hands
covered in jewels and spots of age.
Sorrento and Capri, the Taj Mahal (remember Phyllis and Fred whom we met in the summer of 64'? We kept in touch until the twins were born and then they lost the farm and moved away. Last I heard, Tom was in a home and Phyllis's girls were all doing fine), and
The Great Wall.
The couple sitting intimately close to us chatted respectfully, listening as the other spoke, patient as the orders took on a life of their own -- low voiced inquiries of dressing type, and a delicate request for a few extra napkins beforehand.
They were the only couple in the restaurant talking to each other. I wondered if they were married since it appeared to be an exception. So rare.
But then I eavesdropped on their conversation about funerals and portion sizes, and determined that yes they were.
As my husband and I dished up five plates, refilled waters, and laughed at each other in the middle of our kind of crazy, her eyes met mine. We smiled. I looked away. And then I heard her whisper to him, "I can tell they're a good family,"
and I felt full.