My heart swelled inexplicably
when I turned the key
and caught the scent
of something lovely, coming from the kitchen.
I dropped my loaded bag
and clowned a heart-attack
when my son came running from his room
and gripped my thumbs, and balanced on my shoes.
And as I broke into our nightly dance—
his graceless, middle-aged old man,
I knew: that I will be content
if this is all the heaven that we're granted.
Labels: Patrick Phillips