I’d almost forgotten the night
driving home on the highway
barreling along, going like sixty,
not knowing the old heap could ever fail,
cutting across Germers Park,
rutting the sparse grass of the baseball field,
easing up Candlestick Road,
flooring it and quickly braking,
backfires shattering the slumbering town,
raising hackles on Mrs. Delb’s twelve cats,
then the final turn, coasting into the alley,
barely missing Denny’s new green wagon
killing the engine, slipping inside,
TV blare concealing my approach,
snapping on the light, fanfare: “Ta Da”
and finding her innocent asleep,
too tired to wake up and party,
despite wine, candy, flowers.
But no big disappointment.
Send her drowsily upstairs,
check the gas, shut the light,
resist talk show hints to share the night,
put the TV set to sleep,
climb the creaking steps
repledging repairs, tomorrow and tomorrow and...
creeping in to cover Denny and untangle Beth
then strip, wash, gargle, slip into bed,
molding the warm woman closer,
much too excited to sleep,
then later dozing off
while thinking what we’ll do
with the money from the new job.