Hygge

By Stevieslaw

When the first greetings
were done
an easy silence settled
over the firelit room—
the afterglow of finding
each of us still kicking
after all these years.
We circled the blaze—
feet to flame,
passing the Chianti around
in its brown paper bag—
just as we used to do,
while you told
that infamous story
of how we all met—
to giggles and snorts.

            
(Tell us why you write): “I had a choice? I didn’t know that.” – the poet