Snuffcliff

I remember when I loved this drive

Back in august, muggy haze-

Confidence a flame in my chest,

uplifting my steps as I breezed

Into the office, my first salary set in a Catholic parish,

school building from long ago still holds holy charm.

So pleased I was at my desk with it’s window,

A street of houses bright yellow and blue

Watch as I come and go.

 

Seasons turn this highway morose with

grey limbs and brown slush,

A grocery scale hooked in my chest makes

Each bright green mile marker an apple added,

Weight tugs long after the dial has maxed out.

That is the dread that curls up in my head

And sleeps eight hours from the moment her

Orange Mini Cooper rolls into the parking lot

Until I walk out that door and go home again.

 

All day in his sleep, dread turns over or paces his feet.

Nightmare of anticipation, filled with threat if never

The bite. Some days go by with no attack, but others

Feel too often sting of her words,

Her criticism with no construction intended.

Unconscious claws scrape the floor,

Running from slumber’s scold.

 

Sarah snuffed that flame inside my chest-

The one I had so proudly lit,

So preciously cupped behind my palm,

So cherished the warm beauty I held.

Tears drip from well drilled deep with every

Blinker click as I slide off the exit,

Church steeple in distance a chilled breeze;

The cold wick in my heart not only snuffed,

But spat on, too.

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