After I forgave you
again
for leaving me alone
for making me wait
for making promises
that weren’t quite promises
I tried to step outside
the room of my heart
and look back into my life
through the eyes of a stranger
who might be passing by—
and if they saw in my window
a tiny glow
they might assume the source
was a Rockwellian scene
of contentment—
a woman waiting by the fire
for her love—
but if their curiosity
led them to step closer,
to peek inside the door—
they would see me
holding a torch
above a flammable pile
of our history—
deciding whether or not
to set the whole thing
on fire.
DeMaris
12-3-18
“By the Hearth” by Platt Powell Ryder, 1881 (American painter, 1821-1896)