Poem #10 of 30

WHAT WE’VE BECOME

 

On the #13465th time,
the faces above the mantel tsk us.
We turn our back to them;
make a mental note to rearrange
on Saturday, the to-do-list day
but not this day, Sunday, when we
go lazy and practice what this should feel like
on Mondays, Wednesdays, and when we’re too tired
on Fridays falling into sleep after take out boxes
of garlicky string beans and marinated tofu.  We are the ones
we always wanted and never expected to be.
They look at us and ask, Here?  Now?
The affirmative has nothing to do with their voices
and all to do with what it should mean to be
who we wanted and never expected to be
on any given Thursday, years in, and
as passionate and patient as we were the 1st time.

 

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