Gray Skies

There’s something about the rain

And this perfect gray sky

Like when you’re mixing black and white on your palette—

That smooth color.

Makes me think about boredom

And beauty

That can be found

In a pause.

I hold my belly

In the rain

And feel cool drops on my skin

Thinking about miracles,

Like that time I danced in the rain

With Marcella

In Quebec.

I had big, green, wondering eyes.

Makes me ponder

My babe.

Will its eyes

Search the gray skies

Through our living room window

After Math class

On a Friday afternoon?

With and Without Apology

When I dump my emotions because I can’t change my world, and I feel squeezed by my circumstances, my husband, wet with sweat, gets the brunt of it. I am worried that my child will grow up with boring tan walls on the second floor of a retirement building. And he will feel under-privileged. And she will know lack. No matter how I tried to slice it, at one a.m. in the moonlight I could not reason my way through that one. So I lashed out with barbed words and hot tears. In the middle of thick night my husband and I railed, shook and wept. And then held on. Held on to each other’s spent bodies and whispered apologies and adoring words.

In the morning I am used up like a dishrag, and there are moons under my eyes. 5:45 a.m. and I am making coffee for the regulars. 6 a.m. and I am calling my husband from a washroom stall in a panic. Does he know how much I love him? Is baby okay? 7 a.m. and I am going through the motions. 1 p.m. and I am home, falling into bed exhausted.

4:53 p.m. and I have choices to make. Am I going to let the possibility of failure stand between a glorious dream and I? When I’m talking to my friends am I going to tiptoe around the elephant in the room or loudly introduce him? Am I going to bank on the fact that I will succeed and turn a deaf ear to dream deflators? Am I going to believe I am a diamond? Am I going to move forward and keep pushing like the tide does habitually and rhythmically to the beach without apology?

9:13 p.m. and I am waiting for my love to walk through the door. I will hug and hold the man who wants these things for me more than I can know.