A former grocery sack on my desk
holds a banana, a zipper bag of dried plums,
a low-carb snack bar, and two paper towels
that serve as wrappers for a carefully washed orange
and apple with its identifying sticker removed.
Love in a paper bag.

This morning, my love made this for me
while I was getting dressed.
We awakened to brightening sunlight beyond the bedroom window
shining as it only does in the first days of spring
in any year.
First light rays bounced off the stark white of the garage
to reveal silhouettes of the pecan branches as they push forth
the green bud of a new leaf. Robins herald the return of other birds
through their warning calls.

In my cubicle, there is no light, except for the fluorescent radiation
that beams down from the ceiling overhead and the matrix illusion
that glares from my computer screen. There is no day and no night.
There is only work and breaks for tea. And the dream of going
to lunch to walk out the door to soak up
sun and warmth and chlorophyll glow
and love.

Here on my desk is the sunshine that my love gave to me
this day in an apple, a banana, a plum,
a small refuge.