We move through our house as guests
so polite.. I am sorry, would you like
to brush your teeth first?
I brew coffee, let the dogs outside.
There is no frost on the grass yet,
but it is cold and wet
with September dew.
October strolls in and it is hard to remember
who it is I wake up next to in bed.
I have lost the idea of you;
or you have changed,
or have I?
Magnanimous strangers the next weeks.
There is morning frost.
I wear slippers when I let out the dogs.
You no longer want coffee in the morning.
I drink alone.
Dreading the wolves of winter,
I would hide from December.
You embrace enforced gaiety.
I embrace a bottle and Morpheus.
Just let me sleep until the new year;
There is promise in January and light.
You love me, you say
momentarily distracted from your own thoughts.
We are good
I don’t believe this anymore, but I nod.
Ignoring February’s valentines and flowers,
my heart beats elsewhere
the house echoes with its rhythm
my heartbeats go unanswered.
I am utterly alone.
The thaw comes before the rains.
The dogs rush outdoors in the morning
green scent of March still clinging to their coats
when they barrel back inside.
You notice that I am drinking coffee
and ask if there is some left
I cannot remember how you drink your coffee:
black or brown or white.
You watch me pour with a stranger’s eyes.
I offer you the cup
and ask how you take it.
Spring and summer
I no longer miss you.
I no longer kiss you
and yet you tell everyone still
we are so good
I do not know who you are
or if I like you
I move through the house like a gust of autumn wind,
October storm to clear away the dust
left too long sitting.
I ask you to move our bed,
politely as I would ask a stranger
Please shift our bed so that
I can clear away the dust beneath.
You look at me, astonished eyes
and say that our bed
cannot be moved
by man on earth.
Roots of olive
plumb and true,
inlaid with golden hope and
it cannot be moved
by those words
I know you once again.
* Images from Google