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.

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.