glancing up over the top of her reading glasses
looking at me, smiling
fingers extend out towards my resting arm
and we touch –
gathering blooms from the miniature rose bush
light footfalls in the garden beds
a soft exhale passes my ear as delicate fingers fall onto my shoulder
and she touches me –
checking the blind spot before a left turn
reaching out absentmindedly to turn down the radio
as I have thought of another inconsequential piece of random…
fingers touch my leg –
soft flutes signify the work alarm has sprung into life
encrusted eyes struggle to open against the new breaking day
a slight change in the steady breathing means she is also awake
she reaches over to touch my exposed back –
each day new ways come to light
every moment new feelings of excitement and peace
I close my eyes to think of her beauty and grace
and I am touched –