At just a little after four in the afternoon
My wife brought me a bag of popcorn.
I was listening to a symphony by Schumann
Who ended up in some asylum. Tragic. German.
Romantic. The symphony was his first one.
She, my wife, put her own popcorn and a beer
On the table near the green corduroy chair
She sat in. It’s by the window where
She likes to sit and read when we are here
As we are now for the first time in three years.
Just four feet or so between us, she with her
Beer and popcorn; and me with mine that’s for sure.
I was thinking I just may be the first ever
To sit in this room, or anywhere for that matter,
And take in Schumann, beer in one hand
popcorn in the other.
I think Schumann would get a kick out of that.
And, just now, as the french horns announce a great
Change in the weather within I wonder if he had
Me and today in mind while he was going slowly mad;
With that graceful animated allegro at the end.