2000/discord

At my desk, oatmeal cooking.
Pen just filled.
Saturdays can be difficult
We get in each other’s way,
like furniture.
You want the blind closed,
I get depressed without sunlight.
You like to sprawl out, read the paper.
I need to tidy up.
Often we fight,
a sad commentary that we can’t
be together without discord.
Apparently, it is not so uncommon.
Other women admit the same is true.
A husband comes into the house,
she goes into the garden.
It keeps the peace.
Another says she bites her tongue
to keep from telling him
he is insufferably dumb.
Marriage is not easy,
nor what I wanted it to be.
Neither were years of living alone.
Saturday, we’re stuck with each other.
In the work room we share,
you keep your shade closed tight.
I open mine so I can see out.

1/29/00