Indifferent Cares

Indifferent Cares

I

                                 

  first

                           

    then you

                             

  talked of the

                           

ice storm's path

                       

      width and breadth.

                       

    And how the freezing

                       

  rain, like tears, builds up,

                       

adheres to anything available

                     

like a kid in a supermarket cart

                 

  that grasps everything close to him

               

  or her. It doesn't matter now. Two adult

               

kids fighting about chimney fires and wood

               

that needs a good amount of kindling - just like

             

our marriage. Bright lightning lit the sky and when

           

  I tried to light a candle even then you worried - 'we

       

might start a fire...and besides, what's one little candle

       

going to do for the entire house?" Silence. We lay in the

       

darkness, on the couch and on the lazyboy. Another flash-

       

lightning and immediate report of thunder. I see the orange red

   

glow in the distance and I realise the Weather Channel can't tell me

   

anymore that the orange and red is the region for strong and

     

severe marital problems, "thundersnow" as they call it. I'm

       

sure the lights will come back on but you complain that

         

the ashes are going to create more trouble and you

           

try to prevent me from scooping ashes into an

             

empty garbage bag. "Use this one, you idiot!"

             

  you thrust a completely full plastic bag

               

  in front of me. You rage as small, small

                   

  amounts of ash touch the red brick.

                       

I then go and collect small twigs

                     

  down by the lake and I hope to

                       

rekindle and refresh the firebox -

                       

but I notice that the shards of

                         

ice are now like poison darts,

                           

thunking unthinking into

                           

the frozen tundra at my

                           

feet. Tis all I can hope

                             

  for.Maybe, while you

                               

walk away, an icicle

                               

called your heart

                                 

  is found not by

                                 

me but by one

                                   

who goes by

                                   

the name

                                             

of

                                                           
                                                     

y

                                                                                                   
                                                         

o

                                                 
                                                               

u

                                                                   

!