Sometimes I Forget How Much I Love Her She lounges by the pool in the shadow of the sun, Reading a novel covered in palm trees. She flicks up her sunglasses and turns And smiles. Sometimes I forget how much I enjoy her. I lick the last spoonful of Phish Food And she says, “No sugar for a week.” I swallow and chuckle and nod. The next day she brings home a chocolate crème stick To celebrate our dog’s birthday. Sometimes I forget how much I like her. We are sitting on the gray couch Watching another rerun of Law and Order. I snatch the remote to turn up the volume, The channel changes and she erupts, “Give me that thing.” Sometimes I forget how much I need her. We’re on a three-hour drive home after Visiting our learning-to-smile grandson And dispensing advice to our saint of a son-in-law, When she says, “You know, he is not you.” Sometimes I forget how much I cherish her wisdom. She is still asleep beside me The morning light embracing her face. At that moment she is more beautiful than Thirty-five years ago when we first intertwined. Sometimes I forget…