Musings by The Poet Loriet
Moving Day
My husband
moved out today.
I came home to a
U-Haul
filling the drive,
looming over me
like an imposing ogre.
Inside of it
were pieces of my life.
I wandered the halls
of my home
like a ghost.
It's the little things,
like the cookies
piled in a Tupperware bowl
that let me know
he took the cookie jar...
He stripped his bathroom,
taking the tacky
trout-fishing shower curtain
(Thank God for small favors!),
and, as if in a final act of spite,
he went to my bathroom
and took my Picasso print...
Damn fool!
Doesn't even like Picasso!
I did self-talk,
took ten deep breaths...
I won't give him
the satisfaction
of a reaction.
He took the "everyday dishes,"
leaving the good China
and Crystal goblets,
perfect for hot dogs
with the kids!
All his friends and family
came over and stared at me
like a rare specimen at the zoo.
I gave them my best
Vanna White smile.
He couldn't help buy groceries,
yet today our fridge looks
like a liquor store explosion.
"Fifty cans of beer,"
my seven year old proclaimed
with a boastful smile.
Thirteen years of my life
devoted to him,
and I find it curious
that what I'm going to
miss the most...
is my Picasso!
Lori Beal
moved out today.
I came home to a
U-Haul
filling the drive,
looming over me
like an imposing ogre.
Inside of it
were pieces of my life.
I wandered the halls
of my home
like a ghost.
It's the little things,
like the cookies
piled in a Tupperware bowl
that let me know
he took the cookie jar...
He stripped his bathroom,
taking the tacky
trout-fishing shower curtain
(Thank God for small favors!),
and, as if in a final act of spite,
he went to my bathroom
and took my Picasso print...
Damn fool!
Doesn't even like Picasso!
I did self-talk,
took ten deep breaths...
I won't give him
the satisfaction
of a reaction.
He took the "everyday dishes,"
leaving the good China
and Crystal goblets,
perfect for hot dogs
with the kids!
All his friends and family
came over and stared at me
like a rare specimen at the zoo.
I gave them my best
Vanna White smile.
He couldn't help buy groceries,
yet today our fridge looks
like a liquor store explosion.
"Fifty cans of beer,"
my seven year old proclaimed
with a boastful smile.
Thirteen years of my life
devoted to him,
and I find it curious
that what I'm going to
miss the most...
is my Picasso!
Lori Beal
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Moving Day
Moving Day
