No smile or wave in the gray light of dawn, instead a dark look and turn.
She melts beside me, shrinking.
Wondering, like a scolded pup, what she did to earn
the coldness—and how long it will last,
In the light of day, I wonder too.
Thoughts tumble, memories of words and phrases, like a bad novel
that put me in her place, but without a mother as a shield
with words to deflect
Stilted exchange in the cool color of evening.
Too bright with effort of an olive branch, extended,
tersely brushed aside in censure.
I am shrinking too.
Wendi Clouse, PhD. has spent the last decade as a research analyst within the arena of higher education. After numerous academic publications in refereed journals, which include New Approaches in Educational Research and Management in Education, she has recently, returned to her roots to work on a body of poetry, which explores the complex and often hidden life, of aging women. You can read more her writing at The Eggcorn