The week I moved out I began singing again with the Salt Lake Choral Artists, a 200-voice audition community choir.  I needed the music.  Music to soothe my anxiety and sadness at being separated after 25 years of marriage.  At times waves of sadness crashed over me, ground me into the gravel of life.  I needed the music.  Our Christmas and holiday repertoire included some of the most moving melodies I had ever heard.  In one rehearsal the director shouted at me, “Everybody is singing here!”  I nodded, but my throat was choked up and tears stung my eyes.  I needed this music.  Still, the long drive “home” after rehearsal on dark, freezing winter nights, terminating at my construction zone apartment, mattress on the floor, wardrobe in my duffel, the thermostat set at 50, brought the waves crashing again, the music notwithstanding.  This poem attempts to describe that difficult time.

SEPARATION

The cold brings it on,
and the darkness.
The long drive dredges it
up, even after
the singing, after
three hours of wonderful
singing, the long winter drive
to a place that wasn’t home,
where I shivered in my bed
and thought of the woman
that used to be mine.