It was a thunderstormy Sunday afternoon. Jackson Browne’s voice filled the room as we sang...
...into sterling silver salad spoons.
We melted chocolate over popcorn and poured glasses of merlot. She and I gathered our goodies and snuggled under the same blanket, turning on the DVD.
We drank our wine, and talked about the boys we used to know. The poets at heart. The kind ones with shy smiles.
“Oooooh, here comes our favorite part.”
She raised her glass, “Carpe diem.”
“And haven’t we though?” I said as we clinked our glasses together.
h/t Patti Digh