There are days worth waking up for –
Days when you remember that you are lucky
To have a home and two dogs
To keep you company while your husband is away.
Outside, you move your porch chair
Into the sunlight and the forest of trees
That is your backyard
Comes to resemble a church with a tall pipe organ –
And you chant softly
As you finger the prayer beads
Your husband bought for you in Tokyo.
There are days when the neighbor’s mutt,
Who is constantly barking
And who has lived in seven states with his owner,
Lies still and silent in the grass.
And you listen as the wind carries the sound of
“Diamonds and Rust” to your side of the fence.
These days you don’t notice
The ten pounds you’ve gained from your dose of Celexa,
Or your lack of libido caused by the Risperdal,
Or how the panic returns, even
A bit, if you forget to take your Klonopin.
There are hot baths at the end of the day,
When you move your arms towards your body
And you feel the small waves
As they gently rock your spine forwards and backwards –
And again forwards and backwards.