Divorce Song

A man who is probably my husband sails by.

But I just see a sailboat, not who steers it.

But I picture a man, in the gender of things.

My husband who you will not meet.

He’s off, I don’t know, marshalling.

Ideas, not soldiers. Sailing helps him think.

I used to join him. Then we argued.

For a decade we argued. And sometimes

sailed, though I was admittedly mostly

decorative, a mermaid on the prow.

Whether I brought him better luck

is not my weather to tell. I cost him.

Time. He costs me. More.