A Passion Still There
The drive from the airport
took us two days.
We had to sample each other
in bedrooms and showers,
in hot-tubs, in the frilled thrill
of paid for rooms.
Weeks later, we did it in the car
like kids. It was awkward, I had forgotten
how a small car can restrict.
We hastily gathered ourselves
lest the young show up
with a cell phone.
Now there’s a different kind of passion,
a love of wine, warm sheets,
chocolates and
old movies.
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