A Love Poem

A Love Poem
Bheka Pierce

Beside me on the Bangor to Boston plane,
The Weather-all Aluminum Siding
Representative for Southern New England
Has taken his wallet out and is showing me
Photos of his freckled wife and kids:

“Here we are down the Cape,
My one-and-only Gillian with our twins,
And Bongo our beagle out in the boat,
Kinda overexposed, I guess, and a bit
Far off, but you know what I mean.

“Here’s last Christmas morning,
Jimmy and Todd on their new sled,
Mirriam, our first-born pushing.
That’s my family! Who’d a thunk it,
Me a family man, the childhood I had.

“This is the new patio my neighbor Mal--
Salt of the earth--helped me with;
Mirriam missing that tooth, holding up
Her blue ribbon for figure skating;
This is just our front-stoop welcome mat.

“Oh, and here’s my Gilly eleven years ago,
Our honeymoon down Bermuda there,
Laughing at my dumb joke, the umbrella
In her whiskey sour, plus reminding me not
To cut off the top of her head this time!”

Dog-earred, cracked photos thumbed
Over however many times in one hotel
Room or another, his moist eyes automatically
Adjusting focus, exposure, longing,
And I know what he means.