Porch Talks

I have waited all week for this night.
This night I see you.
This night I spend time with you
and your children.
When the children are asleep
and you can relax
we retire to the porch
with a bottle of wine
and a pack of smokes.
We talk about so many things.
Your life, its heights and depths,
my life, its mids and lows.
We cross in the middle
and talk about our similarities.
We branch out and talk about
our struggles and victories.
We hug. We kiss.
We pour another glass of wine
and light another cigarette.
We never judge.
We’re not the types who do.
We simply listen
and interject a heartfelt comment
where we can.
We hug. We kiss.
We pour another glass of wine
and light another cigarette.
Our most surreal and unbelievable stories
are met with a nod and a sorrowful smile.
How can we care for such tortured souls?
I do not know.
Yet we do.
And every grain of compassion we share
seeds the garden of our healing.
We hug. We kiss.
We pour another glass of wine
and light another cigarette.