unspoken

funny thing - expectations...

they raise so much grief and disappointment,

especially when unexpressed.

how can i meet the desire

that is never articulated?

of course i am complicit, in that

two sides are there for every unspoken word.

not having mentioned formless plans

ahead of time

brings me up against the cage of our arrangement.

i am to think of you first, only, and our guests.

paying for insensitive choices - selfish behavior -

i am only just finding voice for this need,

my desire to be autonomous, unfettered.

i haven't yet expressed it.

that too leads to your disappointment,

with my failure to come straight home

to spend time hanging out with all of you...

but where is the space for you and your sister?

for her and her husband? for us to be alone?

for us to be by ourselves?

there is no room for these wishes somehow.

we all flock like moths around the glow of the baby

and it has been so good

this time, watching, holding, talking about and

loving their child.

now the house is quiet - you out on a walk -

but i hear Henry's collar jingling

announcing your return.

my time to write is swallowed up again

in noise

in your expectant attention.

© 2009