The birds are always coming out of the sofa
and the banana ears out of the yard—
the sun out of the sky
and the cold out of the shadows.
It is a stair-master, treadmill of a city—
up and down, thither and yon
The efficiency of the lungs is challenged
and the feet pounded into stumps.
The Boy King is engrossed in work and ideas—
busy cells of creativity and code.
He delivers interesting discoveries and salmon
in equal measure.
The Bride is half CEO of the home
keeping the cable car on the rails
and half her own flagship of resourcefulness
The dog loves me: I walk to Billy Goat Hill
and throw the ball in the yard.
Sometimes we share the backseat
on the way to the beach.
Tip-toeing around pre-established routines,
I see new tendrils of connection
ever wary of my role and
deciphering the necessary level of my opacity.
I love it here at Gloria's.