You were a damned good sport when the long monotony of I-5 was calling so alluringly, like ancient reruns when one is ill or discouraged.
I was trying to share a view of the bay, coaxing you with walk and talk of mountains and sunny days that we've climbed in the past remembering the moon through the giant Redwoods we'd wound around the night before.
You know what's missing? My famous old endurance, surprise and your smile.
The one that I've seen flash golden, stunned as though you were Henry Carter making the discovery of Egypt's child pharaoh, Tutankhamun.
Can't seem to crack that tomb.
But darling I'm thankful both for the walk and iced coffee at Mel's.
|From Thanksgiving '09|