Worst Thing in the World

It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world

she says and shuts the fridge door, raising an eyebrow.

and I think to myself, please not you too.

Not now, in my childhood kitchen

with my niece running around.

Not now when my sister just told everyone

she was pregnant again,

not now when my first novel came out,

when we just decided what country number five was.

Not now.

But she turns her back to me.

I make jokes and she half smiles,

reminding me again that having a baby

wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world

and I think

no not the worst,

picturing the mountains in Salzburg

and Mozart’s grave,

remembering Caesar’s

and waiting on Beethoven’s

not the worst,

I nod,

not the worst,

but so awfully, dangerously close.

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Comments
  1. Love this piece..great work! 🙂

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