At least I still have something.
I clutch Annie to my chest.
Goodnight sweetheart you said.
I’ll turn off the light behind you.
You move out in a week.
The children are frightened.
The oldest waivers between book
ripping rage and eye watering denial.
The youngest sits in my lap
sobs for television. I breathe out
courage, think of Pema.
I listen to Esther, her Dutch
accent light in my ears
as I do laundry, fold
a stack of your
clothes because I need
the basket because I love
you because Esther says
words sometimes get lost.
I still have something,
the sweet poppy of my own choice.
I guard my heart with Sophie, Sarah, Sonya.
Wrap women’s words like wire
around my breaking self
to bear me up so I can
find a movie,
tape up books,
keep moving on.
Katherine Anderson Howell is a poet, esthetician, and parent in Washington, DC. Her recent work can be found in Whale Road Review, Atlas and Alice, and Dead Mule.