Steps

you made me wait for the change,
not letting me inside, your body
leaning on the glass door, your
fingers counting pennies, as if
a small tip might break
your budget.

your face concentrated hard,
those lips pouting
a red lipsticked line,
your brow concerned with
such a little thing.

looking through the glass,
you met my own gaze,
gave me a smile,
one of those wistful, dreamy
forgotten smiles from when
we knew we'd break apart,
when life was turbulant,
and no backrub, no fingers touching
would mend it.

you thanked me for my work,
the electrcity to your barn
finally sparking, your kids
in the hallway wondering
why their lovely mom stepped out
on the porch to give
the workman a hug
and returned with a tear
in her eye.