Day thirty-two: storm windows  

On the morning after
what was supposed to be
a one-night thing
I change all that
by offering to help her
put up storm windows
protection from the coming cold

And so an unlikely conjoining
solidifies on a ladder
inside the cool fall air
with yellow scattering the ground

I have always been
a storm window guy
one who hangs around
perhaps too long
not because I am wise
or prone to settling down
but rather, I am tragically curious
profoundly intrigued
by all of the opposite sex
I want to know everything
and some thing in me
has always known
the real connection
is there
in the mundane,
holding windows in the fall
talking over slow coffee
on the step
while the cats play
at our feet.

© 2007  Thomas Trofimuk