Now that we have lived
On bean water
And salt is a luxury
I have seen you broken
and collect yourself
with shoestrings
Every other man is puny
All the causes banal
There is not another worthy
Of this tour de force
None but you could lay claim
To this countenance
This Mother wit
My amazon
My fruitless, bearing hips
Such is your strength I falter
In the face of your
Resilience
Please don’t reveal
Your sources man
I bask in your
Mysterious

Happy Birthday Husband