151: Week One

I hope the thing we remember

from these days of firsts

is how you squeezed my hand

when we unlocked the door

and how we ate cheese and crackers

on the front porch steps

and how we wrote letters by candlelight

because our lamps hadn't arrived

and how we walked far too slow in the crosswalks

because the city demands attention.

And how we'd sneak out early

to walk weary bodies to coffee

and how there were roses growing

at the end of the street

and how I couldn't help but whisper to you-

"this is magic" most every day.

But more than anything,

I hope we remember how we had nothing

and how it was more than enough.