Winter

Everyone was still alive.
Well, alright, not everyone,
But everyone who’s died since

Of those who were born before.
She met her soon-to-be-ex
In their counselor’s office.

This was the last-ditch attempt
To interrupt the divorce,
Agreed to by the lawyers.

But she was convulsed by fear
Or something she couldn’t name.
Not rage. That was part of it,

But more like a side-effect
Of the fear, just as the fear
Was a side-effect of want,

Her hunger, not for this man,
Certainly not as he was,
As she knew him and he knew

Her, but for her, for herself
And him as they could have been,
As she had imagined them.

Why had she been denied that?
Why couldn’t she claw that back?
She ended up making threats,

Sobbing and cursing an hour
Away incoherently.
Privately, the counselor

Warned her ex and his lawyer
He shouldn’t be home that night.
She’d see none of them again,

After the papers were filed
And she drank herself to death,
One of the many deaths since.