Aubade

I like that I learned something new today, I suspect much like Kicker...The title of this one tells us that it's going to be a poem set in the early morning hours (an aubade is a kind of morning love poem or a song of dawn).

I like how yours was rounded, simple yet with strong visualisation. I did a little further searching and I say with a "sigh" I read Philip Larkin Aubade. Nigg, it gave me great pleasure to come back and read the rest of your prose. Your love for your wife and boy, I assume this is who they are, is so staunchly uplifting after venturing off to read Larkin, who, I must say is quite good really, when read in the right setting... to put into in context, sat in hospital recovering slowly from major surgery, wife of a recovering alcoholic ... not so much lol...

Nigg, next time, I look forward to you taking the chance to step out across the darkened passage, just the touch or light caress of a hand from a loved one can bring so much to ones life. I'd go so far as to say some 25yrs down the married pathway now, it's the handholding, the kiss to the brow, the gentle touch or caress that says far more to me than those heady days of lust & passion, not that they're dead, I just find more meaning in the other. Haha, DB I'm sure would be the first to say the opposite.