Write my Wife a Love Poem? July 6, 2022

shirt soaked

grime under his fingernails

slumped in the truck’s

front seat my gardener

leans out the window

smiles and asks over

the idling engine

and I think to myself

how difficult it must be

to tell her himself

drained at the end of

another 10-job day

so I reply OK

knowing he’d like for her

a special treat

something she’ll

never expect

something like

a diamond

cut from words

he cannot say