I sit in a rocker on a front porch under a full moon with country music acting as a soundtrack to the few people still moving about. I look at the moon, listen to the music. We are here, now. I smile.
We have both smiled so much tonight and there was laughter. Of course we had laughter, don't we always? sometimes, maybe never. You tell me. I think we do.
You sit next to me and smile. I am nervous under your stare but I enjoy it just the same. Take your glasses off. Let me see your eyes.
Let me see your eyes. Sometimes I catch what color they are and then think different? Are they blue or green?
I take them off and look at you for as long as I can which is not so long until I turn bashful and look away.
I say, That is what I remembered about you.
Your blue eyes. When Lebowski asked me if you were cute I told her I remembered blue eyes. Your eyes are all I remembered. How long has it been, two years?
You nod and smile.
And I am nervous but I smile back.
Then I drive home to Slater and Billy Sue.
Heartbursting gratitude on the day you are supposed to rest.