It’s not about the rug
It wasn’t what he said…I hardly remember what it was he said — it was the way he said it. There was a crease over his brow, and then he let out a sigh that was so heavy
We stood at the window and watched as the hummingbird hovered in a stream of sunlight, revealing the dazzling emerald and brilliant ruby hues of its feathers. “I feel guilty, taking his food away,” David said,
A Haiku for My Love
This morning, as with most mornings, David and I lingered in bed, beneath the warm comforter, contemplating our respective tasks for the day ahead. “I’ve got to go to my studio and make photographs,” he said.