Ode to your loveseat
 
Yellow loveseat couch,
against the wall,
looking out
the living-room window,
the window that looks
down the tree-lined street
where neighbors do
their neighborhood things,
you wait for me
to sit in your lap,
or nap
with my head on one of your arms
and my feet on the other.
 
You are the bed
where my body rests
while I listen to my love
tell tales of family and friends,
or challenge my statements
with insights
and more hopeful points of view.
 
You are the softness
that supports me
as I gaze at the softness of my love,
curled in her chair,
swaddled in my guitar song,
drifting from attention to sleep.
 
Other times,
you hold us both in your arms
as we look out on the weather,
on the sun, and the rain, and the snow,
while the hours pass uncounted,
secure in the shelter
of shared presence.