a day, like any other

 

languid is how you sleep

my not quite husband

of six years

you secure the jars too tightly

i compensate

and do not seal them at all

mundane morning reflections

which drug to prepare

us for the day

tea for two

quaint, elemental

the routine emerges

i place the cup in your hand

it would be no different

i no more of a wife

Nancy Faye Hill
copyright 1982 - 2001
All rights reserved

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