You might say sadness
is the opposite of happiness
but I say it is sulking
that grey fit of determined misery.
It was this face I wore yesterday
sour as old meat
when our sunny beach day
was buried by an avalanche of crankiness
a denouement of three words
to make you shudder
missed
his
nap.
Still
I am the adult
I could have climbed out
sat on the heap of our wounds
surrendered
sang lullabies.
I burrowed instead
sinking into the day
picking at my hardship
like a scab.
He slept eventually
of course
and I got my swim
my glass of wine
but I couldn’t stop thinking about the young woman
I had heard about the other day
her body choking on cancer
she said to her friends
don’t miss me
just promise me
you won’t miss
your own life.
So let this poem
fly in the jaws of the wind
land at her feet
my shame
for turning my back
on a day
she would have given anything
to taste.