Is time fickle or is it wise?
One week off’s an eerily close miss.
And the dignity I’ve glimpsed in your heart, voice, and eyes
morphs it all into sweet, aching bliss.
But Glen is in you
as Barb’s still inside me.
Maybe this pacing is all meant to be?
Simmering, the days, weeks, and months as they pass
whisper coyly,
“Wait and see. Wait and see.”
BIOGRAPHY 
