Jul/Aug 2000 Poetry

Apart at the Seams

by Beau Boudreaux


Apart at the Seams

Rising early
one weekend morning,
Aline began to wash
the floors and windows
in all the rooms
of our rented house,
which took her late
into the afternoon,
and when through,
sat in a chair
and wept out loud,
because, as she said,
I hadn't even tried
to stop her.


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