Chambers

 

Never crossed my mind that you'd be unhappy,
feeling short-changed over the hand life dealt you,
needing more grace, more than what God allotted.
I only wanted

that you'd always think of your girl with pleasure,
keeping one small chamber no grief inhabits,
hidden sound-proof space only we could enter
sometimes together;

random hours you'd spend in my quiet presence,
not as star-crossed lovers; no melodrama,
just as a refuge, knowing you seldom need one.
But I was asking

life for more gifts, more than what God allotted,
pledged to unasked promises, willful, waiting,
keeping one small chamber no love inhabits
ready for letting.


Carol A. Taylor

First published in Anthology One, Alsop Review Press, 2004