Once The Honeymoon Is Over

Sometimes you like to fight about the tub ring,
Or how she never keeps the records straight.
The casserole that lacked a certain something,
Or how she missed an all-important date.
It’s plain she used to like you better when you
Drank vodka from a melon with a straw,
And oaths you shouted heated up the venue,
With hopes you cherished still unformed and raw. 
It’s funny isn’t it, how people shape-shift?
I’m sure she’s changed a lot, too, through the years.
Her dreams of glory have been given short shrift 
Beneath a load of problems, aches and tears.
Yet sometimes she still sees the loud, fun-loving
Guy she used to know, and liked so much.
Beyond the mental pushing and the shoving,
She has become dependent on your touch.
 
 




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Sally Cook is both painter and poet. Whether writ­ing or paint­ing, she keeps a sharp eye out for the psy­cho­log­i­cal por­trait. Her essays and poetry have been pub­lished in jour­nals such as The Chimera, Chron­i­cles, Con­tem­po­rary Son­net, Iambs & Trochees, Pivot, and The For­mal­ist Por­tal. Look for her in the next issue of Light Quar­terly. Cook’s review “Rhyming The Right”, of William Baer’s anthol­ogy “The Con­ser­v­a­tive Poets”, may be seen both in the cur­rent issue of The Uni­ver­sity Book­man and on its website.