hassle house

A husband lied to his wife this morning,
         5 o’clock shadow cast across his lips
Still poised open
         As his eyes flicked sideways.

A sister went to school sick to the stomach,
Fearful of staying home,
           of being a hassle
           In a house of hassles
And cracks above doors that slammed

The boy who played cricket left handed
Left silently, like usual
After sleeping silently,
         Living silently

Tucking under his left arm,
His four leaf clover collection
in a postage stamp album,
He ran away from this hassle house
And never said goodbye

The house sat in the city
By the park that measured time by the back and forth of the swing set
and the light that blinded off the silver slide at 4 in the afternoon.
People played and fought
Made love and sandcastles and dinner and lies.
Told secrets.
Threw tennis balls
                           and sticks and stones insults
And tantrums.
Heart beating,
Children breathing
Passionate life,

It all surrounded the hassle house this morning

Surrounded a lying husband, sick sister and silent boy

each following their calling, each falling as Alice down the rabbit hole,

making life altering decisions, with little thought,

because this was the only path,

And it looked straight from the road.