April 12
My Experiences with Tennis
I have held the racket, I have hit the ball, but I have
never played with a partner. I have
slammed the fuzzy orb against the wall for long years now, but I have never had
a mate. There were times when I had
opponents; yes I’ve had a couple of those, a collaborator though, that I have
never had. I have learned to overcome
opposition either through wile or guile.
Slugged my way toward some inevitable outcome, I never expected you on
my court. The game we play is for keeps
and the muscles required I have never used, I ache from the pain of ending an
atrophy imposed on me by isolation and misunderstanding. Often I don’t know how to stand, don’t know
how to act; don’t know how to be the equal to your service. I play chase, running after the thing I
didn’t see and only faintly felt. I have
come to the place where I know, you and I are a team; you will not be leaving
looking for someone better equipped or with greater experience. It is time for me to lay out in front of you
my host of tendencies and inclinations. I’m in the habit of overwhelming with
my strength to hide my weakness; I must expose this all to you, the strength
and the weakness, and work together for the resolution. I will no longer
pretend that I know what is right and wrong in this un-played game. I fear that I will lose the old game by
making this change, all that is familiar put up for grabs to the uncertain
outcome of paired sports. All I truly
know is that with you by my side I can never lose and I will learn to do whatever
it takes to be your wife.
Dream with an open mind
*
SOLIDITY
Apprehension stands
in the archeological site
Which is my life
-----listening
Listening for the
rumble of a cement truck to come
And help solidify the
shifting and tenuous nature of my existence
A wet and sloppy
solution
A solution to be
raked and smoothed, covered and cured
Something to build a
monument on
Or a place to park my
car
The nearby grass
looks lush and green
But I dare not leave
apprehension alone or it spreads
I stand with it on
bad days
And against it on
good ones
I pray for the mixer
to arrive
Or at least the
gravel spreader
I need to fill this
hole so it can be a life
And stop being a
grave.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way
to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault
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