ode to eric, on our second anniversary

my husband, he is pretty nice…
he manages my crazy and disposes of our (unwelcome) mice,

he takes the late-night dog walk when i’m in bed…
he makes me laugh when i could see red,

he accepts the fact that i write romances…
even as i sigh over darcy at country dances,

he brings me flowers just because…
and out of the sink, he cleans the scuzz,

he worries about me when i am hurt…
and, man, can that guy make composted dirt!

and, two years after we vowed in health and sickness…
i still see him as an embarrassment of riches.

**with apologies to poets everywhere.


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