Antiquing

Normally I open the door
for you, but today you are
far too jazzed to wait—
so with a smile, I say nothing.

You clasp my hand eagerly,
pulling yourself into my gait,
as we enter the mall
and begin the search.

Sometimes you stroll
and browse and peruse,
but this time you are
mission bound—
your birthday wish:
a new place for us to
play…and sometimes lay.

In time, something appeals
to you and my anticipation
transforms to fascination…

I live for what is about to come.

My exhale acknowledges

the metamorphosis,

as the presence resident

within your tiny frame

soon takes up more space
than the large oak
bed frame
you have decided
must be ours.

I could finagle
a suitable price
but that would rob
me of the spectacle
that is you in action.

In a blink, this heart
touched by gentleness
toward child and beast
becomes a brass-balled
negotiator of intense
red-headed mettle.

The haggling begins with

smiles, warmth typically

reserved for loved ones

and closest friends,

and affectionate praise

(authentically expressed)
that is smothered

on the creaky hound
once tasked with the
shop’s guardianship.

At appropriate moments
I nod or voice support,
kicking in occasional remarks

as a good sideman should,
revelling in the
choreography
as we move through
this slow, delicate dance
of marital romance.
 

Without breaking stride

you glance at me briefly

with a knowing look,

wanting but not needing to

assure my audience and approval,
still wearing dogged tenacity
couched firmly in a

gracious southern smile.

I just return a nod with a
satisfied grin confirming
my admiration of your skill.  

Presently first names
will be passed around,
hands will clasp satisfaction,
and you will turn like a child,
delivering me a priceless
tilt of your head and
feminine shrug that
asks, “How did I do, Papa?”

Your smile always melts
me and I shake my head
with familiar yet still
reverential wonder…
before taking a final look
at the shit-eaten grins
of the proprietors,
still bearing the stains of
their unwitting participation—
still fully thankful to
have relieved themselves
of their treasure
at barely cost.

As arrangements are made
and delivery discussed,
I know it isn’t the value of
these items or the artful
place they will have
in our quaint domicile
that thrills me.

It is the reassurance of knowing
that in all the years before us
I will recall every detail
of this day, and many others

besides, every time my gaze

settles on the domestic

mementoes we found together

on days such as this.

Before we turn to leave
—the triumph of the day
still beaming in our childish
grins and post-game banter—
I snatch another quick glance
at the afternoon’s trophy.

My sweet, not only did
you choose wisely

…but you will wear it well.