Most evenings we sit in our special spots; Me in a corner of the couch, Him in the Eames knock-off With his feet propped on the footstool. We’re engrossed in the usual; A book, a magazine, the iPad, And it’s quiet and warm around us. He chuckles quietly at something, And I look up and he smiles at me. I know eventually he’ll share the joke And we’ll laugh together, But we are good with the silence And our eyes smile just for a moment, Then all is again quiet and warm around us.