Divorce is not
A bomb or a wrecking ball
It is before that, and warmer:
The midst of the storm, the midst
Of the war
The poorly patched walls
In silence where we stand
Distanced, avoiding contact
The midst of the growing fire
Where we reluctantly and with shame
At having given up after
So much
We are not trying to melt the ice
I love Margaret Atwood's poem "Habitation" and thought it would be interesting to put a different twist on it, exploring divorce, as opposed to marriage.