He gently pushed aside his glass of wine
and reached across the table, held her hand
as he had always done and bowed his head.

A silent, wordless, grateful grace imbued
the sacred circle of their embrace.

“Amen, she said and smiled at him the way
he knew she would because she always had.

He leaned toward her, lifting the hand he held
and lightly brushed it with a tender kiss.
He said, “I had a thought today,” and stopped
to watch the steam in autumn’s light create
a frame around her face.
                                                “About?” she asked.

He shook himself and laughed. “The loves we’ve heard
about in epic tales, romantic poems,
and songs of passion, joy, and broken hearts.”

“And what, my dear, conclusions did you reach?”

He squeezed her hand. “They pale compared to us.”

“We are some serious shit,” she said and laughed.