I’m on my pogo stick in the street
watching him reverse his car
off the driveway next to their home
to the front door. He does it in spring, summer,
autumn, and winter, to give
the love of his life the shortest walk
possible from the porch to the passenger seat.
I watch her smile when the rain doesn’t get her,
the heels of her shoes don’t hurt her,
the weight of bags in her hands evaporates.
A simple act, I think, a way
to open your heart to everyday romance.
I’m stood on the street, two decades later.
He’s reversed his car from
the driveway next to their home to the front door
and he tells me it’s simply because you can’t
open the passenger door
when it’s parked on the driveway next to their home.
© Carl Burkitt 2023