Tamara Willems

whadya know about love…

I spend the morning resisting the urge 
to ask him 
if he still loves me 
when I know he does, but just sometimes  
it’s still nice to hear it 
always I marvel at how someone chooses 
the everyday 
the day in and day out of things 
what makes You 
love 
Me 
I have asked him to submit his answers in essay form 
a request 
he has not yet acquiesced  
while I, he knows well 
could easily write him..  a book
do you think if we knew these things, or  
heard them often enough 
we would always try to make sure they were  
on obvious  
display 
or would that then become too 
superficial 
I mean, nothing is lovelier than to hear someone 
wax poetic about how it was  
they fell in love 
what was that thing, that moment, those qualities 
and I think it does as much for ourselves 
as for the other 
to be reminded of…  the lovelier things 
now and  
then 

A few weeks ago, you may remember 
our big maple in front of the house broke off  
in a storm 
thoroughly crushing a large burning bush below  
and both had to come down 
leaving the outside almost completely thrashed and 
much changed 
suddenly, over exposed  
and barren 
a feeling I’ve yet to  
adjust  
to 
stepping out to check the mail 
feels like a stage 
I don’t want to be on 
amazing you know, how much cozy comfort one gains 
from a large shady tree 
and just how much.. home it contains
still feels weirdly like a death in the family 
like no matter what else we do there 
something 
will always be missing
we have started replanting, in the process of  
rewilding 
with much more purpose in mind, 
than a  
front lawn, maintaining  
grass 
but everything starts small 
and still looks kind of haphazard  
everywhere signs that…  something  
happened here 
I do worry how the squirrels and the 
birds will adjust 
yet I suppose, like the rest of us 
they do 
haven’t got much choice, otherwise 

after he has gone off to work 
I take a little snack outside 
to my chair by the pond 
sit with the sun on one shoulder 
talk to the fish, watch the birds 
the butterflies and the clouds 
let the breeze brush my face, and the sun 
warmly romance 
my  
skin 
let the colours and textures around  
gather me in, in a parade of  
riches 
breathe in deep, listen and  
smile 
try then to put down a few words 
about love 

where I find  
it is best 
to always fill oneself very full to overflowing 
with this stuff  
as the heart, when it is open 
has a great capacity 
to hold 
and also, a wonderful way 
of 
spilling out 
 
and I guarantee you, there is always  
someone 
most willing 
to 
listen ♥

Leave a Comment