Over time

marriage morphs

from raging fire

to comfortable routine

sailing a ship

over the ever-changing sea

when we take each other for granted

tending to daily roles

as parents

taxi drivers


and tax payers

stealing away

in little moments

when we swim like hell

to converge on an island

where we can be spouses

and lovers

and friends

a rush of dialogue

poured into ten minutes

as we solve life’s problems

and dream

just a little

before a peck on the lips

and swimming back

to the ship that I’m amazed

we somehow keep afloat


This is the twenty-fifth poem of my personal 30-day poetry challenge to break away from the machine to think about things that don’t matter. I have no idea what I’m doing. – Jim

The Last Night of Summer 

Jim Mitchem

Writer. Father to daughters. Husband. Ad man. Raised by wolves. @jmitchem on twitter. First novel, Minor King, out now.

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