Flooded

Flooded

He regards his wife with guarded silence
as she walks with purpose toward his study.
He tries to look aloof, unmoved but busy.
Gazing into his computer screen with a blank stare,
he braces himself as the floodgates threaten to open.

Nearer she comes down the long hall.
He fears the flood of emotions at his doorstep;
anger, stress, overload seeping through the cracks, threatening
to bend his boundaries with the force of a great wind.
He sees it coming, demands for his time, his dwindling energy.

Her words can be a threat to his delicately balanced sensitivities,
so tenuous as to tip his scales with the weight of one…more…request;
a dread that, with the slightest nudge, the tilt will be complete
until the weight of life leaves him sideways, unable to find
the energy within himself to return to balance.

Unwilling to allow the inevitable fall from control,
he looks into his computer screen and braces himself,
awaiting the anticipated complaint or demand
to issue forth from her lips.
Hold on... , here it comes...

She plants a gentle kiss on his forehead
and without another word, she walks away.

He waits for the wave of emotions to ebb
and breathes a sigh of relief

as the flood subsides.