I gave him a deadline. Count down.

her too.

But there was so much to say.

New digs.

Moving out,

moving in.

He had ice cream stories to share,

her site visits.

And I lay on the bed,

in the green of the night

trees swaying to the whack

of the late June rain.

He talks of his ice cream glove,

all the better to grip his Ben & Jerry’s.

She talks of donuts from

her local coffee shop,

meanwhile I’m working to deadline,

writing lines,

grabbing images,

writer talk.

Knowing tomorrow

we’ll catch up

Boston to Mayo.

Mother daughter

yaps

giggles

and yes, writing talk

with my fellow writer.