Slow Waltz in April

At twilight, on a cold spring night,
when spring itself was holding back,
unable to take charge in the face
of winter's last-minute blast,
in a kitchen where garlic and shrimp aromas
mingled with those of steamed rice and broccoli,
and a sweet chef in blue jeans and Henley shirt
did double duty as pot scrubber and dishwasher,
two lovers waltzed to classic jazz,
turned in slow circles past dishes to be done,
past left overs to be stored, past computers
that waited with papers to be written or read.

In the heat of that kitchen,
with a Spaniel and a Boxer cutting in,
that slow dance added a course
to an already sweet meal, an already
luxurious day--an hors d'oeuvre
for the winding down
into love-steeped sleep.

One more first, in a short line of firsts--
One more pleasure never felt before--
One more reason to call this love.