This Too Shall Pass

 I used to think that all of the heartache 

and toil in my life was due to circumstances 

beyond my control.  Then, my uncontrollable 

universe fell into alignment and I thought,

finally, all is right with my world.

And it was - for a minute or two.

Realizing that the churning little pit in my stomach

was set in motion by a part of life that I do control

has become this English teacher's 'lil taste of irony.

But this too shall pass.

Well, ok - it won't really pass,

at least not until I make some ridiculously 

big changes in my life (which I'm trying 

to do) but hey, until they're made, it's good to 

know there are only a few months 

left until it goes on hiatus.

The Closet of My Discontent

 

Grey picture, eh? 

The Closet of My Discontent

 Just before midnight,

I stand in front of my closet 

and dress for work;

pragmatism at its best (or worst).      

For in five and a half hours' time,

eyes grow untrustworthy and

 husbands deserve to snooze;

wake them not with noise and light.

Ten months a year,

I perform this ritual begrudgingly,

note how it lacks the light of summer ceremony,

(when instead of pulling on charcoal wool for the long commute,

I slip into yellow cotton and walk my husband to the train)

and blame the Feminists.

I've grown tired of this winter wardrobe, 

of dark days and matching clothes.

I'm ready for FiveFingers and running shorts,

sunburns and tangerine dreams.

Only 16 weeks to go.