So many things to
Take care of,
Seemingly all at once,
Barely able to cope
With even one task,
Let alone many,
A haze of anxiety.
He remembers a time
When it all seemed easier,
Though, upon reflection,
It might have never been.
Although she hadn’t expected it
To take up so much time,
It did, requiring her
To set aside things
Far more important.
She labored on,
Wondering how she might
Extricate herself from
This self-inflicted situation.
It keeps gnawing
At my insides,
A dull intruding
Discomfort.
I try to make it
Go away but it
Makes itself at home,
Taking up far
Too much space.
I ask it to leave,
No answer.
No stranger to failure,
He optimistically
Starts a new project.
This will be the one,
He says to himself,
Dreaming of success.
In the other room
His wife opens yet
Another envelope.
This month it’s the
Electricity that
May be shut off.
Next month it
Could very well
Be a divorce.
A quiet day
Except for a
Gradual awareness that
Everything has changed.
Mourning the past,
Hoping to return to it
At some point,
To a time when
Everything seemed possible,
A vast world beckoning,
Unencumbered.
Sitting in the park,
He watches her climb
On a rock, the way she
Looks over to make sure
He’s watching, a flitting
Bird enjoying a sunny
Afternoon, he nods his
Approval, mind straying
To the many times he heard
The gavel come down
Informing him that he
Was not fit to care for her,
The same thing that had
Happened with her mother,
The specter of foster care
Looming over the scene,
Ready to take her into
It’s impersonal arms and
Away from everything
She knows, now but a memory
That never quite goes away.
She comes home
After a hard day’s work
Entering numbers into
A computer,
Staring at a cold,
Uncaring screen,
Figures passing by,
Taking moments of
Her life with them,
All to pay the bills
For those she loves.
She walks in the door,
He gives her a hug
And listens to how
Her day went.
Step by dreary step,
Trying to finish
Something, anything,
When my mind is elsewhere,
In different times
When things weren’t
So complicated and
I didn’t have to handle
So many things at once.
A persistent fog
Distorting my perception,
Unable to see, feel, clearly.
One movement at a time,
Finish one, begin the next
Until the sun rises.
How safe I feel until it appears:
Lashing, shoving, upsetting
My calm certitude. Rattling,
Confusing, shaking the walls of
My nerves. Look around and wait
In tense anticipation for tranquility to
Return. Try in vain to disregard the
Haphazard din, continuous thrusts.
Calm arrives, disquiet remains.
