Monsters

Family life was always God-given, stone hard,

as part of the world as water. But my ex’s choices

had her creating a family of five – three and two –

and this arbitrariness is the monster to me.

Her nest wasn’t just there, but was fashioned

from the void-filling stuff I don’t have it in me to see.

Brave, she worked in darkness, in the moment,

when all’s still to be lost. Bold, she

assembled day-by-day, sweated without

the comfort of the backward glance

of a job done, a story told; logic imposed.

Her children enjoy her as much as the puddles

they were born to splash. For her - for most -

it never sets, never stops being done to,

must not allow the monster questions in.