Early Riser

By Boomergirl47

Such a little thing
but it keeps coming back to me …
You, in the wee hours—
waking up and sitting
on the side of the bed,
hands on your knees,
head down, gathering your wits.
You, of sound but scanty sleep,
working at all hours—
my industrious man.
I lay there half-asleep,
watching you surface,
then reached out
and squeezed your hand;
you squeezed it back
and rose to start your day.