Your grilled cheese sandwiches under 
the full March moon, as Jupiter draws 
near and we witness its unblinking eye 
hovering above the horizon at early dusk. 
The way your lip is slightly twisted upward 
at one corner making your mouth look like 
an irregular right triangle. 
Your explanation for washing your bed 
sheets three times a week, "dust mites." 
Your mantric complaint about how hard it is 
to dress well at 20 below zero in the midst of 
a blizzard. Yet refusing to compromise for 
the sake of warmth instead sludging, steadfast, 
like an Armani foot soldier through road salt, 
snow drifts and sleet. Saying, "some things 
will not be compromised!" 
Your method of slowly moving, methodically 
passing through the house...dusting, resetting 
souvenirs, just so. You, the feng shui master 
of knickknacks and fashion magazines, creating 
a perfect order in the universe of our life.

© by Charles Ries. 
Used with the author's permission.