Sequel from the Portuguese

Perhaps we could have been at work today

You fixing cars, and I still writing text;

Just letting other’s needs dictate what’s next

While keeping boredom and despair at bay.

We might have rushed home to be with the kids

To feed and bathe and tend to all their ills

To cook and clean and pay the frigging bills

And then to watch TV through leaden lids.

But no. We’re old. We don’t work every day.

The kids are grown, pursuing their own bliss.

We have the time to play and talk and kiss

And to enjoy whatever comes our way.

I’m glad, my love, that you’ve grown old with me

The best, my dear, is what we two now see.

2 thoughts on “Sequel from the Portuguese

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