It’s difficult anticipating sun
when clouds are low and rain is pelting down.
It seems like storming will forever stun
the limbs from trees and make the seedlings drown.
But comes the clearing when the squall is done,
with azure sky and sunshine like a crown,
and then I can’t believe that in an hour
we’ll soak again beneath another shower.
With all the ways to amble to the store,
the prettiest includes a two-block hill.
It isn’t steep – my vigor can endure
it, but most days I’d rather skip it. Still,
the view is worth the effort, and what’s more,
I’ll bus home laden and curtail the drill.
I’m old but not about to call a stop,
though I’ll admit relief to reach the top.
The storms last week were not as scary here
as forecasters announced they’d likely be.
I’m sure they’re right about the atmosphere,
the power outages, accounts of tree
collapse, but individuals appear
less devastated than reports. It’s clear
I’d better trust what I can hear and see –
not media. And now I’ll sweep debris.
A life unshared, somebody once opined,
describes a life unlived. That gave me pause.
I then was twice-divorced and not inclined
to think a third time charming, for the flaws
in marriage one and two were no doubt mine –
indeed, my exes each espoused again
without complaint or doubt, while I seemed fine
as one, and only lonely now and then.
It happens when I let my gaze extend
to big occasions that I feel alone.
Except when contemplating fetes or end-
of-life, I’m happy being on my own.
I daily flourish, unannoyed and free.
I share my life with others constantly.
Sam wanted water from the fridge, and not
the tap with ice cubes that I offered him.
The bottle was too buried to be got,
and I declined to cater to his whim.
“Just get some cubes,” I said. Then Lila tried
to open up the leftside freezer door.
Sam blocked her, whereupon of course she cried,
and so did he, while sinking to the floor.
At that I pumped my fists in victory.
“I can’t believe I got you both to cry!”
They hesitated as they looked at me.
“Does Grandma rock? How powerful am I?”
He cracked a little smile then, which cued
her own, and thus we slew our little feud.
I didn’t measure and I don’t have stats,
but we’ve absorbed a spate of rain this year.
If quantity is up to last year, that’s
significant. So far the bricks appear
less damp where they abut the floor, and near
the hearth the mortar doesn’t effloresce.
Too soon to celebrate improvement here,
is new construction helping? That’s my guess…
I’m slow to comprehend my impotence
in trying to deflect someone I love
from iterating choice that makes no sense.
My logic fails, my reason gives no shove,
and little matters my intelligence,
except to late-accept, like from above,
the counsel I change counsel to restraint,
and let the masochist enjoy complaint.
Unsexy wrestling matches, tacit, vain,
like who worked harder, who dealt with more stress,
became a common thread, a dull refrain
that thrummed beneath domestic busyness.
What once had been good talking and direct
communication, clouded with subtext.
The friendship love had led us to expect
devolved to lack, and hours half-perplexed.
The coffeemaker would be set to start
at 6 a.m. each weekday, but that meant
that someone must pour water in its heart,
and scoop ground coffee to correct extent.
It’s sad how each would wait the other out.
Divorce removed the contest and the doubt.
My mother can’t get down upon the floor,
and up again is even harder still.
She’s 98 – you’re 70 plus 4 –
the exercise is not a test of skill.
It takes exertion that needs more of will
than sinew. Don’t surrender easily.
Make up-and-down 5 times a daily drill,
and you’ll recover flexibility.
I paid attention to his words. Four years
ago he wouldn’t stay at home. He said
although he loved his partner, he had fears
estrangement could develop. So instead,
he opted for the office, ate his bread
mid-day alone, and registered no lack.
His story now is home meant chair or bed,
and movement ‘round the office saved his back.
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