Starting Over

    by Jeanie McLeod

Darling, we’ve finished dinner

and tidied the kitchen;

I’ve turned out the light,

and uncertainty

hovers in the dusk.

What would happen

if you reached for me,

smoothed my blouse,

cupped my remaining breast

in your strong, clean hands?

We’re both unsure

of how I’d receive you,

if we began again,

different people, infinitely older

in our haze of grief and need,

but when you touch my shoulder

in the blue wash of moonlight,

I melt into your chest,

and the only sound‘s

a tick of the clock and the hush

of new beginnings.

© 2010 Jeanie McLeod

Jeanie McLeod retired from social work and from professional clowning at about the same time.  Today, she lives on the very edge of the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia where she spends as much time as possible outside.  In bad weather she writes.  Her prose and poetry have been published in approximately fifteen journals.  She has won awards for each.  She was also nominated for a Pushcart award.