from here i can see
paintings tim made long before
he met me.
and i can see a good, solid piece of furniture
my former mother- in- law
bought for, and with me.
i can see a picture of my parents kissing,
in black and white
at the old polo grounds,
and a picture of tim's dad in high school.
tim's dad died two years ago this month.
i can see chairs and tables and mirrors and shelves
that have come into our house from a friend
i can't imagine not having,
although i just (re)met her less than five years ago.
as much as i love these things from her,
i love so much more her smile and laughing and understanding.
i can see photos from friends i've never met,
that hang in prominent places around my house,
inspiring and reminding me of the breadth of this new world i've found.
i can hear girls, ready for bed.
the sounds of a family about to spend an incredible ten or twelve hours,
just quietly sleeping
and retreating into the safety that comes
from being a part of the same household,
with the doors closed and locked, the cats at our feet, and all of our days behind and before us.