Colleen Conrad

Morning light on my face, a book in my hand, laundry swaying placidly on the line.  Wrapped in an Amherst throw blanket, perched on a quirky, comfy chair, my dachshund resting warmly on my lap.  No music but the birds, my toes dangling off the front edge of the porch.  Quiet, peaceful togetherness.  His laptop, my coffee, a newly-cleared backyard.

And then his hands on my shoulders with a reassuring squeeze, and his breath at my ear.  A kiss on the cheek.  A few hushed words, exhaling affection.

Shortly I’ll go to my doctor’s appointment, and he’ll go play tennis.  We’ll meet again this afternoon when the sun is high and the rest of the world has woken up to join us, teeming with life and alertness.

But the Right Now is ours.  And it’s my favorite.