I appreciate
your appreciation
of the unsuspecting spectacular,
of self-sustained and self-indulgent worlds
where tonics with good-quality gin,
ethnic foods and philosophical debate
become the marbled statues
of weekday gods.

Even your mundane
is magnificent.

Only you could make
religion
of train rides through Europe,
of Virginia forests and
Louisiana nowhere,
these clockwork retreats
that mark you a messiah
to those of us
less daring.

Your gift to me,
wrapped in a friendship that
has grown into a dependable,
and tested adulthood,
is
a Sunday afternoon with the windows open,
the newspaper blanketing the kitchen table,
a moment to enjoy and appreciate
flowers
otherwise unacknowledged.

nice write...mac

what a great write