What’s your name again?
It’s your husband, or don’t you recognize me?
I know it’s been a few decades since
we spent weekdays together
full days – just us.
When we lusted for each other
even played hooky from work.
Our home is actually her space
She’s been nesting it, creating it,
Cleaning it, dusting and decorating it,
Creating memories for us,
Creating a sense of family in it
I enter it as though I enter her
It’s her private, sacred sanctuary
Now where’s my place?
He works at the office
works on the outside of our home
I work on the inside of our home
This is my work space
The kids, they’re mostly grown and out (I hope)
I want the same time and space for me
Cooking meals that nourish me
Puttering in the garden
Making calls and chatting with friends
I’m scared of what I’ll be asked to give up.
How do we come together, again?
used to being
for most hours of the day
working in different places
if you can call it that
at the end of days,
It’s a new beginning
retiring from full-time workship
closing in on Elderhood,
a time to re-evaluate
to reflect on
who we are now,
Who is he?
Who is she?
Who are we?
How do we grow
each other, together?
How do we re-create our life?
How do we begin to talk again?