Monday, May 04, 2009
The same caveat as with the others applies here.
All I want is what feels like home to me
Comfort in silence
The sun in the morning through an east-facing window
To begin each day in the arms of one who asks nothing more
than that I be me, completely.
To witness the wheel of the year
turning around us as, by holding each other,
we form a circle within its motion.
Relative mine (though you don't deserve it),
I'll kindly leave you nameless.
Given my way, I would disinvite you from my life.
"Sorry," I'd say, "We have no room for your kind."
But I get no say in the guest list for my life
Instead, I get to sit
across from you at family Sunday dinners and
watch you across the formica table.
You, with your heaping plate of food and
an imagined or real gleam in your eyes.
I would stab at you
but all I have is my plastic spoon and, anyway,
were I to try,
your protectors/victims would surround me and beg
for peace and forgiveness.
Pleading for your absolution as you
unapologetically finish your pecan pie.