A Troubling Moment Poem by Morgan Michaels

It was all very troubling:
after seven years of marriage to her whiny husband
with whom he exchanged a functional loathing
when their virtual twin-ship must needs be admitted
in spite of biological differences, by all involved,
when Fortune seemed to shine again,
his sister began to show; smiled mysteriously
informing the table at dinner one night, 'Yes, it was true'
confirming her first pregnancy at thirty-three.

He contributed to the round of clapping
the oohs and ahs of genuine delight;
too, tinked his water glass with a nearby fork,
the tedious wedding enacted again
in a smaller, more intimate version,
but it made him uneasy.
It was the usual thing: love-neutralized venom-
he didn't like it-it gave him indigestion,
the now-endless prospect of blame.

And then she raised her glass
and took a sober little sip of water
having given up table wine a month before
and looking sideways at her father swallowed
her eyes full of love and shared, secret triumph
in acknowledgement of their unassailable,
their special bond. She had done what she could:
the future was up to itself.