Taking Pains to Love
Sore Ankle
impatiently edging past my husband
the lid - lifts off - from the pot
microwave still ajar
He Cares
not in mood to hear capitulation
at my ankle’s screaming pittance
I harden, he softens
Introspect
his kindness and care remove my black ring
my mood slowly turning blue
not unlike my ankle
Prologue
microwave does not throw out dirty looks
nor does it knock out the light
that fills room with gladness
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