Still the One I Reach For

The house goes dark at ten And my hand already knows the way Forty years of nights, and still In the dark my hand goes looking, finds you there No fumbling, love — it knows the route Across the quilt your mother made, worn soft as prayer You squeeze back once, half in a dream Like you're answering a question I didn't ask out loud Some things the years don't wear away They wear them in You're still the one I reach for In the dark, without a look After every year we've written in this book When the night is long, when the news is bad When I forget the words to what I had — My hand remembers. It always finds your shore. Forty years, my love, and you're still the one I reach for You finish my sentences in the kitchen I start yours in the car — we trade them like an old duet The coffee smell that says you're up before me The hum of you shaving while the windows sweat We don't say much at breakfast anymore We already know. We've known since '85. Some couples run out of words We just outgrew the need You're still the one I reach for In the dark, without a look After every year we've written in this book When the night is long, when the news is bad When I forget the words to what I had — My hand remembers. It always finds your shore. Forty years, my love, and you're still the one I reach for The hospital, two winters back — Wires and machines and that awful chair I held your hand till the sun came up And you woke and whispered, "Still there?" Still here. Still here. That's the whole vow, isn't it — Still here. You're still the one I reach for In the dark, without a look Forty years, and that's the proof it took Not the rings, not the parties, not the cake — Just a hand that finds a hand, awake or half-awake My side, your side, and the bridge our fingers make You're still the one I reach for And I will be reaching, love, for all the years that wait Goodnight, old man Squeeze back twice So I know you heard the song