Language of Love

Once upon a time, a little old couple lived
in a cottage by a dark wood.

A stream meandered by, deliberate
and peaceable. Tapping her cane, she tottered

from room to room, but sometimes needed wheels
when wanting a truffle for evening’s treat.

For another anniversary, speaking
of wheels, he roused his ’66 MG

to life and disassembled its skeletal top.
They hopped in, and topless, the throbbing thrum

of four cylinders chugged youngly up Route 29,
wind flinging her white, white hair, licking

his hairless head, back to breakfast
Sunday mornings fifty years before

in knife-ravaged booths salvaged from railcars,
holding hands across a table deeply carved

with hearts and earnest names, learning
each other’s stories. She had taught English

before her divorce, before her writing life.
Just back from war, he said he was chary

of more foreign travel, he hoped for home.
Years later, she would confess that “chary”

had been so alluring, she decided
to keep him forever after.

GREG McBRIDE

Greg McBride’s books include Guest of Time (Pond Road Press, 2023) and Porthole (Liam Rector First Book Prize for Poetry, Briery Creek Press, 2012). His work appears in Alaska Quarterly, Bellevue, Boulevard, Gettysburg, River Styx, and Salmagundi. He won the Boulevard Emerging Poet prize and has received grants in poetry from the Maryland State Arts Council.