The Good Marriage
There are days when you would make a good companion.
Soft days of rain, the drizzle collecting
In larger drops before running disquieted from the roof.
Days when the dogs bark all morning
And all afternoon are silent. Days
A grandmother would use for baking,
Raking the details of her latest role close about her.
Other days, you are not so well suited.
Bold days of sun, with the wind
Tearing the less serious leaves from dumbfounded trees,
The waves in the lake angrily trying to escape.
Days fast men are running and slow men
Are watching. Days when the pitiably
Collected and contained kitchen fire
Cannot last long enough, cannot be appeased.
It is not you. It is not your fault.
My needs are like the politics of reptiles
And I judge you by them. Forgive me.
In these mechanics I cannot have disappointment.
Forgive my terrapin heart for growing no larger.
Forgive me for forgiving you.