It Fits

By Chris Bunton

It fits.
It just simply does.

My arm fits behind your head,
as we lie on the bed, in the glow.

Your head on my shoulder,
comfortable and light.

It fits.
It just does.

Staring at the ceiling;
at the cobweb on the fan.

Nobody cares. There are no thoughts,
just reverie, and peace. Just to be.

It fits.
It just fits.

This life with you,
and who we are.

This growth together,
 to become, more than one.

It fits.
It has fallen into place.

I can’t explain why,
but here we are again.

Another time, when a smile came,
and we knew it was right to be.

It fits.
Again and again it fits.

All our concerns drift away.
All our days become one.

Our hopes become shared,
and our dreams spring alive.

It fits.
This life together fits.

(Photo from Giant City State Park, Makanda Illinois.)

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