When I Tell My Husband I Miss the Sun, He Knows
what I really mean. He paints my name across the floral bed sheet and ties the bottom corners to my ankles. Then he paints another for himself. We walk into town and play the shadow game, saying Oh! I'm sorry for stepping on your shadow! and Please be careful! My shadow is caught in the wheels of your shopping cart. It's all very polite. Our shadows get dirty just like anyone's, so we take them to the Laundromat—the one with the 1996 Olympics themed pinball machine— and watch our shadows warm against each other. We bring the shadow game home and (this is my favorite part) when we stretch our shadows across the bed, we get so tangled my husband grips his own wrist, certain it's my wrist, and kisses it.
Copyright © 2018 by Paige Lewis. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on December 6, 2018, by the Academy of American Poets.
About this Poem
“When I wrote this poem, I was thinking about how well my husband knows me and how strange and wonderful that knowing is. I mean, he’d be the only one to realize that I don’t just miss the sun, I miss seeing my own shadow. Oh gosh, this is such a love poem.”
Date Published: 2018-12-06
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/when-i-tell-my-husband-i-miss-sun-he-knows