Bon Mot

Our weekend on the coast

lies just a few miles ahead.

The cows we pass to our right 

continue chewing their indifference.

 

She knows it's coming again.

"First bovine sighting: 3:15pm.

Some call them cows.", I say

with all the silliness I can muster. 

 

My overused quip

still sparks a very slight beam

in her indulgent eyes.

 

"That look, right there!",

I point at her and accuse,

as I catch her smile before it fades.

 

With no further words between us

along the green miles left to travel,

I imagine shells on the beach

and second cups of coffee before lunch.