Love
       

He's in a mood.
Not the mood,
when he doesn't speak
to me for a month. A smaller mood.
I know. He sits quietly
ignoring anything I say. No point
asking him to do anything,
help with the baby or dinner
we're having for some friends.
As if I'm not here.

He's getting up, walking to the car.
He does that, go off in the car,
sometimes for five, six hours.
I shouldn't bother asking where he's going.
I'll try anyway. No reply.
I'll remind him we're expecting guests.
Could he pick up a bottle of milk
for the baby?
He's gone. Without a word.
That's how it is when he's in a mood.

I know I too can leave.
I'm educated,
temporarily home with the baby.
Pack up diapers, cereal, crib, stroller,
some toys, call a cab.
There's only the one car
now that I don't have an income.

Guests are coming in forty five minutes.
One thing I learned, always invite
some of his friends.
When my friends invite us, I never know
if he'll announce he's not going.
Just when it's time to leave.
No explanation. And if he's in a mood
and I protest, he drives off.

What I find painful is how a friend
will mention something that's happened—
he's told this friend, but I had no idea.
Is a wife not a friend?
I understand his desire for freedom.
No accountability, no strings.
Of course, I too have freedom.

He's back before the guests.
He's carrying a bottle of milk.
I was right. This is not a big mood.
He's opening the door,
saying hello to the first person.
First word I've heard from him
in thirty five hours.
I should walk over to the car,
go off, disappear for five hours.
What's stopping me?

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Copyright © 2020 Helen Tzagoloff All rights reserved
from Fears and Pleasures
Word Poetry
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission