Every Once in a While
Every once in awhile
I play Barber’s Adagio for Strings,
lie across the couch, all of me
supported, all of me, my heels,
the backs of my knees, the curve
above my buttocks, the back of my head
on the cushion, on the couch’s lap,
I’m safe and cry and let the tears
roll down my temples onto
the wine-red leather, let my body
say to my heart, thank you, thank you.
The music ends. I stand.
Everything is as it was before,
though a little room has been made.
Athena Kildegaard’s most recent book is Ventriloquy, from Tinderbox Editions. She teaches at the University of Minnesota, Morris.