Early every morning he brings me coffee
tiptoes across the long length of house                                                                                             
into our dark bedroom
careful not to wake me
 
Every morning for the last fifteen years
of our 43 years of marriage he
reaches his empty  hand into the shadows
finds the round coaster on the nightstand corner
 
and quietly places the hot brew
Each day I can tell how tired he was
by the number of brown spots along the route
his bare feet  took on the chilly white tile
 
This unintentional Hansel
and his morning invocations mapped
so I might know the path of his love

© by Mary Ray Goehring.
Used here with the author’s permission.