The answer to do you love me isn't, I married you, didn't I?
Or, Can't we discuss this after the ballgame is through?
It isn't, Well that all depends on what you mean by 'love'.
Or even, Come to bed and I'll prove that I do.
The answer isn't, How can I talk about love when
the bacon is burned and the house is an absolute mess and
the children are screaming their heads off and
I'm going to miss my bus?
The answer is yes.
The answer is yes.
The answer is yes.
Judith Viorst
Sunday, October 16, 2022
Poem: Some Advice from a Mother to Her Married Son
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The gravel road rides with a slow gallop over the fields, the telephone lines streaming behind, its billow of dust full of the sparks of the...
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Tell me: how is this night different, from all other nights? How, tell me, is this Passover, different from other Passovers? Light the lamp,...
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I envy those who envy me for traveling. Sometimes I sit on a foreign street in a busy cafe, imagining you wishing you were here, ...