old wound—
I touch it
with new grace
*
crescent moon—
aligning my lips to its tip
to sip straight from the mystery
*
faint scent of pine—
memory of when we were
the whole forest
*
sitting together around the table—
almost weeping at the simple gift
of sitting together around the table
*
wrapping gifts at midnight
the darkness helps me
tie the last bow
*
I despise anchovies—
knowing you love them,
they are my favorite present