My husband spies
a copy of Leaves of Grass
sitting in a musty antique store.

"Honey, here's an old book of poetry.
Do you have this one?"

I do, but I want it anyway.

My husband doesn't know who
Walt Whitman is, and I love him
all the more for it.

Eve Meredith Brackenbury

(Note: The vague pronoun in the second to last line was left in on purpose. I love Walt Whitman as well as my husband).

"Every house where love abides
And friendship is a guest,
Is surely home, and home, sweet home
For there the heart can rest".
~Henry Van Dyke

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