To my Wife of 43 Years

To my wife of 43 years.

She was a city girl and I a small town boy.
What did we have in common?
(Her hair was auburn, like the last touch of an autumn sunset.)

She played the violin and I played football.
What did we have in common?
(Her eyes were blue, but dark as midnight.)

Her father was an engineer and mine a roofer.
What did we have in common?
(Her freckles danced and swirled and danced again.)

She came to school to learn.  I came to play.
What did we have in common?
(Her dimples drew the eye like a magnet iron.)

We met by chance at a dance I hadn’t wanted to attend.
What did we have in common?
(Her smile lit the room and I was taken.)

When bodies come together there’s a flash.
When souls embrace, the light outshines the sun.
What did we have in common?
Not a single thing.
No.  Not a single thing.

August 2007