what love should be

it is on days like

this that i

see her hands

pushing a bowl in front

of me as

i sit,

still cold from the snow

and sledding

down

the hills behind our house.

i see her hands

push the hot meal

before me.

i smell the heaven

of stew,

the onions and potatoes,

the carrots.

it's not love, but it feels

so much like

what love should be.