The other night in the low light
of our bedroom
we shot rubber bands
at the wall to make the cats crazy.
It was a good night
with no permanent scarring.
I can’t same the same
for the following morning.
The day began badly,
unrestrained and angry.
Tonight I am alone and the wind howls
around our lone house on the hill.
I am a young wife and I am lonely,
unable to say it so you can hear me,
or listen long enough to learn you.
When I was young
I wanted to know the future
so I stole a small
purple paper scroll
from the grocery store
that claimed it would
tell my fortune.
I poured over that scroll,
searching for secrets.
But for the life of me
now I cannot remember a
single secret it revealed.
All I know is that later my mother found
its remnants in the pocket of my favorite jeans
after being put through the laundry and
I received a grounding and a stern talking to.
Perhaps no good will come
from trying to skip ahead.
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