SNOW DAY

On a day they did not predict overnight precipitation,

Three inches covered everything outside the house.

I got up early and kept to my routine, unsuspecting -

Unconscious - on autopilot, my mind anywhere but here.

I opened the door to head out and FROZE (pause three beats...)

Surprised by SNOW – and that way it transforms everyTHING.

The view startled me awake from my sleep-walk.

I came to with a gasp in the land of the living – this living land:

There are no footprints yet, there has been no shovel or plow -

The road, the sidewalk, the cars in mounds  - all covered –

Bare trees stand out in black lines on the snow’s gentle light –

And the house across the invisible street now appears nearer.

With a guileless grin I can’t wipe off my face (and don’t want to)

I step out, crunching like a kid off from school, into the different day.

Court Date

 

On our 21^st wedding anniversary

I stood in the empty stone lobby of the courthouse – alone,

Reading the digital board that lists, like airport departures,

The cases to be decided today.

There we are - Martin vs. Martin.

We have signed all the requisite slips of paper.

They were served by that oddly fractious third party we had to hire,

Sworn to, and all submitted in duplicate months ago.

This one is cut and dried.

I have not seen you in five years.

It is longer still since we touched with affection or kindness.

But you remain familiar - I fight you and love you when I’m dreaming.

In the daylight, I awake to reality. You are distant. It is cut and dried.

The judge meets my eyes and rules this divorce absolute.

There are Milky Way minis in a paper cup on the plaintiff’s table.

I wonder if these are for me.

Perhaps people need chocolate when this happens?

I didn’t expect tears in this empty stone place.

But the word “absolute,” and you still in my dreams,

and the mundane humanity of candies in the courtroom

fall on me heavily.

I say thank you, ma'am, and go out of the court to find a tissue.