My smartphone dinged as I unlocked my place:
“We’re heading to Frank’s parents’ house today,
but maybe in the next few weeks! You’re free
Sundays and Mondays?” her message replied.
I dimmed the screen and walked through the door, my
head throbbing despite the Ibuprofen
I took this morning before church began.
I changed, grabbed some tea and coolly felt the
pale leather couch grasp my hands as I stared
at the blank white page, feeling determined.
“Julia’s/Frank’s wedding rehearsal poem,”
my pencil scrawled, underlining the words.
Birds chirped through the open screen door, my brow
furrowed, head still hurting an hour later.
This sonnet is copyright 2016 by Jessica McLean. File sharing is encouraged.
The Rose 
Leave a comment