I realized I was yearning for more than the riches the blessing of the day had brought.
—Alan Cohen, “Visitations”
Give me the napkins with stains on them,
the ones we’ve used for seven years.
Give me the butter dish with the broken lid,
the sound of my husband lightly snoring
on the couch with the missing buttons,
and the wild laughter of children
so loud I cannot hear the woman
on the other end of the phone.
Give me these wrinkles, this gray,
this softness I used to despise.
Give me exactly this life
that I have, wealthy with messes
I have helped to create, so rich
with nitty-gritties
that some nights I forget
that somewhere there’s a clean,
quiet, unbroken world
I once thought
I wanted to be part of.