I told him that we may want
to keep it romantic
all this family stuff
seemed to take
even the best ones down
my fear
that once he was really in
there’d be more chores
less
candlelight

and now
he’s in
at 5:55am
the kitchen, that is
where we’re whispering
the sweet somethings
the practicals
Jeb’s fever that woke him in the night
strep throat symptoms
and general excise taxes

this morning
before sunrise
it’s the takeover
from sexy
to sickness
schedules

at least I’m aware
standing there
in nothing
but my Ganesha t shirt
and Victoria’s Secret
underwear
that something here
has changed

our meeting adjourned
he’ll trim his beard in the bathroom
I’ll come to write poetry
while Jeb still sleeps
the sun’s rising
soon
there’ll be
wet wash cloths to wring
a thermometer to monitor
coordination of
work and dinner

and then
he says
“come see the sky!”
we step out onto the balcony
whack webs away
to see
pink clouds
hear the birds
gaze upon
the sliver that’s left
of the moon