When Iris Plays

A brisk haze hangs—

crisp air drifts,

heat pushes through

the vents,

warming my hands.

Mia took me to hike.

"Iris" drifts through

the speakers.

Mia sings—

thumbs the wheel.

Just south of Trout Lake, 

glacier-clad tower.

Mount Adams has new meaning.

I grab her hand.

She smiles.

She waited for a proposal—

one she thought might never come.

I held it in,

didn't say enough,

expression said enough.

I can't pretend I don't feel

the same,

so I accept a miracle:

a life with Mia.

The ring fit her finger;

all I can breathe is our life.

By Andy Cooper

From: United States

X: AC0040