How to Say I Love You

On evenings when my dogs and I circle the block,
if I am guilty of anything,

it's being distracted by the streetlamp.

            I am visible in it.

If I look directly at the lamp, I can't see the stars.
I don't need the stars anymore?
                                                I used to think

I'd cavern you, and grotto you, waterfall you,
and immense-rock you,                       solitude you

until rain Bristled the evening, lit
our roof to singing—

And of thinking too hard about what to say
            when we're home from our walk:

my wife: welcome home high-wires
and habitual nightmares, lonely woes
                                                            and wooden shoes!

Copyright © 2010 Gary L. McDowell All rights reserved
from Quarterly West
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission