You give me poems to write:
space for me and mine to work out
our idiosyncrasies here
in a place Friendly to such things.
There is so much opportunity.
I am afraid to go to sleep,
even at 11:32 PM, when
my children have long since
left their struggles to find rest;
when my husband has been in bed
for at least an hour without me.
You must understand, this is unheard of.
Home is a complicated combination
of many ingredients. He is the first.
My children are a close second,
and after that, it's all a matter
of geography, and being in the same space
together--safe and somewhat understood,
if only for a moment.
You needn't catch every nuance;
understand every shade of meaning
entailed within our struggles.
The matter is only one of willingness
to be present, to endure,
to come together at the end of the day
on the porch with the sun in our eyes
aware that the time is slipping past us;
this won't last. We have to enjoy of each other
what we can, while we can.
That's what matters most.
