Some Day
to pick your child up at her stop.
Some day you will wake
into an easy rhythm of a morning,
lyrics you've learned,
a beat with an easy sway.
Some day you will kiss your loves
and send them on their way with soft lips,
and this clenched knot your shoulders weave
with your neck and the fist in your chest
will be your daily companions no more.
Some day your heart will feel safe
inside these four walls,
you will inhale and exhale, let your hair
out of its restraints
and undress
as if no one is watching.
Some day you will feel strong and sure,
commanding the world to fall in line,
or at least reigning your power over the dishes
and winning the war against mildew in the bathroom.
But today is not that day.
Today you will replace the belt that broke
before your pants fall down
or show more than you desire
when you sit down.
Today you will leave the dishes and remnants
of all your living right where they are
and lay down, close your eyes and breathe.
You will stare out windows and sit
still while your insides spin.
You will walk and walk and walk
until the reality of where you now stand
hammers into you like a nail.
You will move and then stop
move and then stop
until today releases you onto your pillow
and into a dream of some day,
closing your eyes like hope,
like prayer.