Sourdough

from Out With Lanterns

After thirty years, this love
doesn’t look like I thought it would.
I didn’t think it would still feel
like a life raft, grabbed mid-swell,
like a rinse in cool, clear water. 
I could not know way back then,
what I’d want and need now.
It’s just that I made a bet 
and got lucky. Tomorrow,
he is waking early
to bake sourdough, said 
as he rolled over to sleep,
that he hopes I wake to the
smell of freshly baked bread,
like I deserve that,
like that’s the scent of love.