I Married a Cro-Magnon Woman

I Married a Cro-Magnon Woman

Even though you wear petite,

I should have known.  

The way you hold your head, 

the focused movement, 

thrift in speech --- 

All were clues.  

When you muscled the case of wine 

into the trunk while 

I was calling, "Wait!  Wait!"  

When you dug up the whole garden 

with a rusty shovel.  

When you dragged the garbage bins 

up the driveway two by two --- 

I realized then that twins would be no problem.  

You'd suckle one at each breast 

while chewing leather to downy softness 

for me to wear on winter hunts.  

You'd make our autumn fire, 

spinning one stick on another.  

You'd keep it going throughout the winter 

to cozy up our share of cave.  

You'd heat up water with hot rocks 

and use the waiting time 

to ply your awl for boots.  

You'd laugh.  You'd swat the kids.

You'd be ever looking out 

for fat and protein.  And so in spring 

you'd heft a load, and off we'd walk 

to where the fish were running.  

I'd use up secret hours 

to shape a necklace from 

a thousand shells I'd found 

and managed to hide from you.