Making Love Less Loud

Driving down the lonely road
like some high school poem
lost in love, yesterday
singing some old song,
Driving my old pickup truck
in need of tires and brakes
late one winter afternoon
drifting white snowflakes,

In the truck’s dim head light
only one is working
in my brain her memory
still in there lurking,
On the verge of yesterday
one step to tomorrow
half of it a comedy
half filled with sorrow,

Make it to my destination
turn off the truck ignition
can’t decide which it is
fusion or fission,
Combination, separation
physics both the same
there on the mailbox
is her last name,

Out of the truck, put on my coat
walk up to her door
knock three times with my right hand
hear footsteps on the floor,
Door opens like a vault
hinges creak and groan
she looks at me, with a smile
“you still don’t have a phone?”,

Wearing what she always wore
Levi’s and a blouse
a wood fire is burning
it’s warm inside the house,
Her feet are bare, her long hair
with more streaks of grey
when was it we last kissed
more than yesterday,

Come on in, stay a while
all night if you want
sleep with me if you like
or on the spare room cot,
Not the words she speaks, of course
just my distorted brain
of what we are, and what we were
when we were both the same,

Sit together by the fire
pours a glass of wine
asks how I am doing
I tell her I’m just fine,
We talk about the future
in words obtuse and vague
with casual familiarity
her hand finds my leg,

Her lips taste like honey
like wine, like yesterday
I ask her what I’m thinking
she says that’s okay,
Later, after sleeping
making love together
deep snow in the meadow
changing winter weather,

No way this can last
been down this road before
collect our clothes
from the bedroom floor,
Make it through the storm
until the road is plowed
but each time we make love
it’s a little less loud,