ASKING FOR TROUBLE

Why even try to love just one? 

Seems like asking for trouble,

all those eggs in one heavy basket,

not to mention the road to hell.

I asked for it, and I got it. I still ask

myself why I thought it was worth it;

trouble with time, and how we lose it,

trouble with the body, and how it fails,

trouble keeping track, after all the years,

of the trouble it is, just to be together, or 

the days when it’s too much trouble to ask, 

if it’s the trouble he gives, or the trouble 

he takes, as he puts her to bed, to make the 

perfect braid, in our daughter’s long hair.

Mia Sara has had work appear in Chaparral, Edison Literary Review, Pembroke Magazine, poemmmoirstory, Saint Ann's Review, Southampton Review, Summerset Review, The Write Room, Forge, Superstition Review, Helix, Kit-Cat Review, PANK, and Cultural Weekly, and she contributes regularly to PANK's blog with her column, Wrought and Found.