Everyday Poem #7


Dear NJH,

Happy heavenly birthday

and thank you for

teaching me that the value of a

Saturday night

was not in who asked you out

(unless Dave the trucker, the one with the CB radio, was passing by on US36)

but in how you spent it with yourself

lathering up with Prell and rinsing out the Tame conditioner under the tub faucet

(to look good for Sunday morning service)


wrapping your hair in a towel, in that mysterious way women master before

popping a mountain of popcorn in mom’s empty pressure cooker

(without a single scorch!)

putting your feet up on the couch and spending time with

Johnny Cash and Kenny Rogers 8-tracks

and dreaming that there was

no better place to be

on Saturday night.

You were right.

Love you always,