The Color of Love

Red, red is the color

of my true love’s fleece.

With long sleeves to warm his strong arms,

the fleece gets pulled over his graying hair

at the end of most every workday

and each weekend morning.

An almost decade-long love affair

with this soft apparel has comforted his tender heart.

Without hesitation, it is the first thing he packs on every getaway

and balks when I recruit it for washing duty.

I smile at his contentment with the ordinary

and familiar. Because

if his attachment to a fuzzy shirt doesn’t grow old,

I am assured he will not tire of me, when I do.