Maybe True Happiness Is In a Good Water Softener
by Nate Haldeman
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Morning sun slaps rooftops
and smooths down like sunset shadows rising.
The house stares through
from the window. The truck outside
is a reminder that life is still,
ready to go.
Mom traded prozac
for a sewing machine
and keeps it in the closet.
Sometimes after work she slides
the door open and hems.
It is her way of dealing
with the line between
being mentally ill
and bored with life.
With cold feet in the kitchen at dawn
she tries to see that chrome faucet
for the first time again.
Thinking the world
is almost getting better,
trying to make decisions
that don?t require action,
drinking soft water.
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