monday morning and the sky
by john sweet

    monday morning and
    the sky pressed hard against
    the windows

    it rains or
    it almost rains

    it threatens

    sweat down the back of your neck
    the baby moaning in his
    shallow sleep and what is it
    you're afraid of on this
    quiet street?

    what is it that sits beside you
    in this slowly spinning room?

    not the ghost of your father
    and not the shadows of
    all your old failures but maybe
    something darker

    maybe your future nightmares
    shapeless for now but
    coalescing

    the hell of living too long
    or
    the guilt of dying young

    the promise of disease
    of course
    and maybe your fear is for
    your son

    imagine the possibility
    that all of these unknowns are
    a beautiful gift

    maybe this unconditional love
    has made you both more
    and less than you'd
    hoped to be






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