Sudoku

2022

This is the first time I've opened
this little book of puzzles
in 57 days. Old friend, smudged
with breakfast fingerprints, dripped
here and there with coffee. Fifty
-seven days ago I sat in this same chair
early morning, flowers just beginning
in our garden. Maybe
I was listening to a robin at the time
or the quiet air of our kitchen,
or the soft scrape of my pencil
on the newsprint. April 13
is scribbled at the top corner
of the page. You used to do that
- write the date on your crossword puzzles.
But I'm not supposed to think about you.
A therapist says, let yourself ruminate
for about fifteen minutes, and then
carry on with your day. That fifteen minutes
was used up by the time I got out
of my bed. My bed.
Not our bed. Now I sit in my kitchen
not our kitchen. The small victories
with sudoku are satisfying
and reassure me. After all
if there's sudoku, there's life
and a good cup of Pike Roast
and an open July window
letting in the robin's song.