Telephone (A Poem)
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She called to say they might be divorcing. He has left, for now, for a break, for some time to think. They began well, and strong and very in love. He brought flowers, and she giggled as I had never heard before. They listened to music and put us to bed early, to chase each other around the house. But life is real and hard and can break anything not built well in the beginning. Beginnings need so much time, so much care. They are for seeing, hearing, and feeling for the hearts involved. It has been happening for years, this deliberate look in the other direction, between the two of them. An effort to get ahead, to pay white paper bills, and eat fancy cheese has grown between them, a river too deep to cross. It has disabled the ability to hear, or talk or spend time laughing at life’s sarcastic ironies. Work took over smiles and replaced free time with couch sitting and television watching. Work dug holes in between her sofa and his chair. Work paid for the lights that blinded their sight and burned their love, into nothing. They used to laugh, they used to look young and they used, to look at one another. They were never perfect, but they wanted to be. She called and now, I cannot stop crying.
