Improbable Poem by Amy Serhienko

It follows no logic,
this love we’ve found -
the pale-faced girl
and the rough-skinned man;
the uppity poet
and the dirt track racer.

But you’re the ember
that fuels my fires;
the morning sun
that lights my horizon;
the silvery moon
that lulls me to sleep.

You’re the order
to my constant chaos;
the calming quiet
to my noisy clamor;
the deep reflection
to my impulsiveness.

It follows no logic,
but makes perfect sense.
Two weathered souls
rediscovering trust;
two common people
building an uncommon life.