apple-cheeked and leaning in, we are now a slice and flavor of complete.
everything plowed and tilled; all things in place.
the pint half-full at rest with the still impressed heat from calm fingers; the beads of condensation trickling down the glass meandering and in no particular hurry.
a swollen sun plumped and ample with the promise of a generous heat looms caressingly above the citified horizon.
no rush. no worries or woe. just this time, together. just the "nowness" of it all.
and we raise our draughts to the sky, then to our lips like a silent prayer.
give someone the benefit of the doubt; it's rough out there, and we need a development of trust.