Feel The Love

IN response to my whining yesterday, Laurel sent this along:


Love letter for Tony on a rainy day, when he has been too much with Emily

Dear Tony. It might be your own fault,
the weather. You chose your own piece
of ground and could have expected rain.

Thee are desserts too, you know.

And Emily. You chose Emily. Poetry.
Knowing full well what she'd do to you.
Women are generally going to weep.

Or they're going to make you weep.
Or they're going to make you want
to weep. But you won't in the end.

You love it, the weeping weather.

And that's why I love you. I do,
Tony, never having met you. Because
of all the lime and cilantro. The words

you use for food. I get hungry too.

And music, you like music, as much as Emily.
It goes with the weather, Tony. Love,
food, and music. But for God's sake, man--

If it's going to rain, put on some Otis Redding.

* * *

Thanks, Laurel. It's sunny today.