I said shecheheyanu

before I kissed them both

traces of paint still wreathed our bodies

I followed the faint lines

and listened to the whistling of the wind

as it swept through

the cracks in the old barn’s attic

we threw a blanket

over the slatted

wood floor, covering the dust --

the remains of a 

Golem

destroyed centuries past --

If you’re quiet

on a windless moonlit night

you can still hear him

heavy footsteps

treading up the well-worn steps

before returning

to a dreamless sleep