Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Parent Partner Cancer

The house is quiet.
I got up early
     what house, what fire?

to read, to write
to swim, to stretch

     what house, what fire?

I made the coffee.
Pet the cat.

I read a poem.

     what house, what fire?

A flash of anger
At sickness, at burdens
we feel too young to bear.

     what house, what fire?

I close the windows
when we fight.

We scream in silence
our faces flare.

     what house, what fire?

At the block party
I pointed out our house across the street
many times to perfect strangers
I hoped would become our friends.

No one knew and I didn't tell them what we keep inside our house
How one day it will burn us.

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