I've been reading so much of what everyone has been saying...how hard it is. I wrote this one evening when my H had gone out after an arguement. Perhaps some of you can relate:


I do my time
the window knows me well
the expectant street is quiet
in the velvet dark
i do my time
i pay the price for loving
the demon in the darkness
keeps asking the most
terrifying question
is this....was this....worth it?

there is a price
that winter charges
for spring
the bulbs wait
in their silent deep
through the freeze to bloom
so do I

I leave the dust on the table
because dust remembers
what laughter danced
in these rooms

I knew going in the risk
in this investment
I knew from the height
the fall would be great

So I'm doing time
the window looks in as I look out
each has a view of quiet
space...time slithers by
an asp in search of
a home for its treacherous deposit
I stand incredibly/irresistibly still
perhaps
it won't see me
and move on

even as I let go of one thing
I gather another
even as one departs
another arrives
the ocean of days is upon me