I pray for safety
when D works out of town
for entire weeks, and my loneliness
is staved only so much
by takeout pizza, Survivor episodes,
and library books. When he leaves
I cry like a little girl, and he holds me
so close I try to melt into him,
to absorb his strength and resilience.
I pray for fulfillment
because answering phone calls,
typesetting price tags, and correcting transcripts
sucks me dry, a world of disillusion far away
from creative expectations. When I pick up the mail
I keep the office copy of The New Yorker
the whole weekend, keeping my dreams
of writing and illustrating alive.
I pray my greatest dream
will awaken: to become a stay-at-home mom.
To be present
to meet the needs
forsaken in our lives.
I pray for healing
and new directions.