City of Legends

I didn’t.  :)  Spent the morning with my folks, the middle of the day with my sons and the evening with…the Sunday Girl, remotely, but nonetheless.  She wrote a poem for me, beautiful and purposeful, and video’d herself reading it and it was a religious experience as far as I am concerned.  I’d share it with you but things are said that are private to us.

The name of the poem was "Only skin" and it was about faith and hope and passion.  I loved it, and her reading of it.  Can you get a video tattoo’d on you?  Damn.  But I did write a response, a sonnet.  "White Sunday 42".

You shivered at the cold and thought the room
would be empty on your return, iron
headboard still cold and hard and your bridegroom
gone, a sea of insecurities, dawn
and midnight, stolen in a promised kiss
that would never come.  But I kept faith, held
on when silence roared for I would not miss
this consecration for life or withheld
my love for doubt.  You will always find me,
patient if not perfect.  Not only skin
but lambent determination to see
this through with you, to everyday begin
the best I know how, in your heart and arms,
and surrendered to your brave love and charms.

William F. DeVault.  all rights reserved.

This was my best birthday, ever.