Velcro ®

Assisted living center,
interior early afternoon,
an old man pauses
while strapping up
his velcro ® strap shoe.

He looks at his wife
of many years
across the room,
and thinks about
their time together,
a long trail of joy, loss
success, failure, fears,
and smiles as she
buttons up her dress.

"You and I are like velcro ®"
he shouts so she can hear.

She gives him the look,
a slight shake of the head,
a shrug, and he understands
without words she is asking
what on earth he means.

"One side is roughed up fabric,"
he says while walking to her side,
the other shoe held in his hand.

"The other side is full of little
hooks, barbs and spears."

He pulls the velcro ® strap
across the top of his shoe,
making a ripping rasping sound.

"Neither side is perfect,"
he says now standing next to her.

"But it is the imperfections that
hold both sides together. It is
the imperfections that cause the
strap to hold and stick."

She looks at him and smiles.

"Our imperfections are what
made us a perfect match for all
these many years, and brought
us to this happy anniversary day."

She leans in and kisses him.

Just then a knock on the door,
their daughter come to drive
them to a celebration of their
decades long love.

The man quickly pulls on
his other shoe and tightens
the velcro ® strap,
then hand in hand they walk
through the door,
the man having
completely forgotten
both of his socks
laying on the floor.