words make walls

words make walls

they are married,
i gather, and have
met for breakfast coffee.

he settles behind
a Guardian, and
a look of disgust.

she fingers
a croissant,
trying to catch the eye
of her husband,
over the Calgary Hill
of his paper.

eventually,
she admits defeat.

opening a small edition
of the Independent,
she wonders
why she isn’t.
and where the last 23 years went.