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.