Moving closer, her slack white fine-knit tshirt sags
jauntily over her
spare, muscled frame.
Comfortable, at home in her bones and sinews
Filling her space between
the bulk and hammer, strong-tongue barrel of her husband
and the zealous, eager sprouting of her two daughters.
A triangle of unselfconscious strength
Taking their space
Breathing their air
Moving across batwing airport carpet.
He movie-star slouches against the gray-white speckles
Sports jacket clean
Black bag, balding head.
His strength is in his neck, leaning forward,
not in his chest or hands.
Written returning from a trip to Texas.
Copyright 04.09 Jonathan Reuel.