Thursday, April 27, 2017

To His Mistress, from His Wife

You feel his sweat glide down,
his heart beating fast.
He loses his frets, his frowns,
his worries fade into the past.
He leaves while the sun still sleeps,
he could be gone one hour or four.
I wonder what time his watch keeps
when he finally walks through the door.
He returns smiling and wet.
He is tired but at ease,
challenged, but his goal was met.
There's not a chance you were a tease.
His shirt sticks to his chest,
dirt cakes his shoes,
he was at his best,
you continue to light his fuse.
You've caused him to stumble, to fall,
but inspired him to keep on track.
You've made his body tremble,
been the warmth on his back.
I want to be in the sunrise,
in the colors of the trees,
to see him as the crow flies,
to be his cooling breeze.
Others make plans to see you,
so he feels the pull to go.
Things he said he wouldn't do
again make me a widow.
I want to be the beat in his heart.
When he finally sees the crest,
to be with him at the start
and feel the heart in his chest.
My bed is empty,
he's gone to be with you.
Once again your worlds collide;
I don't know him the way you do.
I wear his ring,
and our girls are waiting.
So in case you are wondering
your pull isn't everlasting.
I'm not in the group he meets
I'm not there to see his feats,
or all the beauty that they see.
But here's the hope I have in me--
I'm in the sunrise,
in the colors of the trees,
in the crow's eyes as it flies.
I am his cooling breeze.

I struggle with the running at times. Mostly with the time he spends with others...sharing that experience...knowing that I won't have those same amazing moments. They are bonds. Ones that I need to make for myself. I'm working on it.