You stir on the soft couch,
finding yourself covered by a soft grey blanket
its colour
toning with the winter gloaming in the garden view

The space is kissed with the blush of the kitchen’s light
as you sit up,
the waft of hearty food

Your woolly socked feet,
shrouded by the blankets
into the light
into my arms

‘You cooked’, you whisper
while your head lays an eternity on my chest

You were so tired.
It’s dark
and cold
out there,
but the dogs are walked
and the food is ready

I slide the baking tray from the oven and the golden crackle presents

It’s Sunday afternoon.
We have been in love forever
and all the forevers await

Dig in



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A Palestinian refugee and her child caught in sniper fire during the War of Camps. Author: unknown

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