Thin Mints

Photo by freestocks(dot)org from Pexels

My husband was home

I smell bergamot, pepper, cardamom, saffron, and leather

He left a note on the kitchen island 

It read, "I ate the last thin mint cookie" so petty

I can't entertain him ruffling my feathers

Rolling my eyes headed to the wine cellar

What do I see next to 14 Hands, his empty glass

With exhausted hands, I carry it to the kitchen 

Turn on the faucet and in the sink, a teabag

Sometimes he can be so draining, am I surprised

My day is done and my jewelry feels a ton

Walking into my closet to undress my stress

With body aches, I wrap myself in silk and lace

Crawl into bed with the September issue

Then I hear, "Honey"

Here he comes, Mr. Thin Mints

"What's for dinner"

I place the September on our bed

Pick up my glass of wine and I respond

"Thin mints"

Another poem to read: Sunset