It’s been a long week with you away
and me back here in the house
with the kids and Z
Yes, I’m feeding her and making sure she goes out
and I’m petting her and letting her sleep on the bed
like you do
Wish we could beat back the friction
and the constant chatter about
the do this do that and
the what do you want to do about that thing and
the did you pay that bill stuff
We feel the busyness of life
sucking off the rich sap
that should be running through our branches
to nourish this precious new thing
Axe men cometh: bank people, the painter guy,
the jerk who dropped by a couple of weeks ago
and planted all those bushes that won’t take
They conspire to rob of us
of the blood pumped into our new body
not that long ago that gave life
where none had been before
Fight – we must fight! – against forces and faces
that wouldn’t give us a thought
were our little car to veer into a ditch
and be swept off by a rushing swell
Damn them and save us
We must protect Us
as we press on
down this road with its many curves
and so many hills
Because I Can't Paint – A Poet's Blog 