Hot Bath

I used to take long baths at home, wine glass
nearby and water piping hot, and looking out
the windows all along one side I might see autumn leaves
or snow or greenest green, and never did
I mind the calls so thinly veiled with humor
("See you in an hour!") that would come
beyond the door into the room outside
my sanctuary. I needed it, the quiet and the heat
and separation, water washing not just body
but at least a portion of my soul. And now we've
moved into a house whose closed-in tub is
claustrophobic and too dark for me to read,
and if you cannot read, then what's the use?
If we ever have the money and the time to renovate,
I know the first thing that I'll add- hot tub outside,
perhaps, or bigger bathroom, one. Something.
An escape from dryness, dirt, cold chaos.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014