Missing That Woman

“Not in the flood zone,” the realtor said.
“Don’t worry.” And I didn’t. Not until
I was in a boat, taking pictures
of our roof, a triangle
floating in muddy waters.

Nothing survived. All too soggy to salvage.
Friends from faraway dredged files
for photos. The only ones I have—
now that you’re unable to pose or
live with me in the next town over,
under a roof I will never like as much.

I miss that house
with the soda-stained couch,
chips on the floor by your feet.

The warped window that wouldn’t budge.

Miss going to sleep on a pillow I trusted
to be dry in the morning.

Miss vacuuming chips off the carpet,
vexed, as if this was the worst
I could imagine.

The woman I was,
who prayed every night,
believed in rainbows
arching over her roof.

Miss that woman,
that house,
that roof.

***

Jacqueline Jules is the author of three poetry chapbooks, Field Trip to the Museum (Finishing Line Press), Stronger Than Cleopatra (ELJ Publications), and Itzhak Perlman’s Broken String, winner of the 2016 Helen Kay Chapbook Prize from Evening Street Press. Her work has appeared in over 100 publications including The New Verse News, Potomac Review, Innisfree Poetry Journal, Little Patuxent Review, and Gargoyle. She is also the author of 40 books for young readers. Visit http://www.jacquelinejules.com