In summer,
the woods filled with florescent green trees,
flowers hanging high around the porch, glowing in the golden hour.
Eloise and Charlie were on the wooden wrap-around porch
just like everyday since they met, drinking blistering black coffee.
Their mugs fit into their hands snug, like they were meant for them.
“How was your day?”

In fall,
the woods filled with amber leaves, falling on the colorless grass.
Charlie tried to hand Eloise the coffee, but she fell fast asleep in his lap.
The coffee chilled, and so did she.
Draping his sweater over her shivering body, he whispered to her,
“How was your day?”

In winter,
the woods filled of lifeless trees,
snow lying dead on the grass.
Charlie couldn’t go outside alone. She was gone, so the porch stayed empty.
The coffee wasn’t made — he sat inside.
Eloise looked down at him and asked,
“How was your day?”

In spring,
the flowers bloomed, as the sun rose.
Charlie watched his granddaughter Annalise,
with hair just like Eloise, playing on the playset — yellow and a child’s fantasy.
Skipping, Annalise grabbed the pot and poured two cups.
Steaming coffee filled the mugs and she walked them to her grandfather.
With no words, she stepped on the porch, calling him.
Charlie sat beside her and grabbed the mug that fit perfectly in his hand, like it was meant for him.
Annalise watched him stare silently into the woods, as she asked him,
“How was your day?”