We sat on top of the bed covers, reading in our pajamas,
like some old couple with legs stuck straight out in front of us.
"I'm glad one of us has pretty feet," she said.
We both kept reading as her grin warmed the room.
I shook my fist in the cool night air:
"One of these days...one of these days."
Through the open window we heard chicken conversations next door.
"You put the neighbor's chickens in the house, right?"
She had admired the four fresh eggs I retrieved earlier,
three browns and a white.
Still, I affirmed her suspicions.
"Good. I'm glad one of us is responsible," she grinned.