A Passing Sigh
 

If I’ve got the job

If he says yes

If the paycheck arrives

If she says no

 

Poetry loves the if’s 

and the why’s--

she leans in, says,

Tell me more, darling.

It’s all right. I have all day.

Don’t be shy.

 

Okay then:

If he becomes ill

If they lose their house

If the business fails

If my child is hurt

 

Pain hits shore in a mighty 

crash; Poetry leans in, folding 

her hands. I understand.  

Tell me more.

 

Anxiety: 

spiders crawling through the mind

 

Hope: 

light shimmering on a stream

 

Pain: 

a mighty crash onto shore

(yet now released, 

a passing sigh)

 

Yes, darling. I’m glad you’ve

arrived.  Now would you like

some tea?