Notes About The Poem
A husband and wife piece together plastic building blocks.
An Amethyst Boat in the Amber Quiet
Lavender and plum-colored bricks spill across the rug,
scattered like a messy twilight sky we made ourselves.
The fireplace is burning low, throwing a soft, lazy amber glow
that mixes with the fading winter light on the window.
Outside, the cold shadows are creeping in,
but right here, on the hearth-warm floor, it’s a whole different world.
We’re sitting knee to knee,
just digging through this clicking plastic mountain.
Click-snap, click-clack—it's the only sound in the room,
our fingers bumping into each other as we hunt for the right pieces.
Out of nowhere, you drop the absolute worst, silliest pun,
and we just dissolve, completely helpless, wheezing with laughter.
We take a second to breathe and grab our mugs,
making that loud, goofy slurp as we drink the hot chocolate,
marshmallow sweetness coating our throats.
Then we're right back to it, keeping the momentum going
with more ridiculous jokes and another satisfying click-snap.
Slowly, this rough little shape begins to rise from the carpet—
an amethyst boat, finally taking form against the December grey.
We press the final translucent purple studs into place,
watching the dim room catch its deep, royal reflection.
It’s just a toy, but looking at it,
it feels like we built our own little pocket of joy out of nothing.
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