Afternoon without Children

by Tamra Plotnick

I ask for wisdom
But crave rage
What if I crumple these wishes
In my serving palms
And toss them
Away

I can be no one
Without children
Running through my
Empty corridors

My breath
Has no true desire
But a path
Wearied and worn
Instinct for life

I drop all quests
Just now
The endless searching
Yawns in my bones
I pray for rest

But fear the long gray
Nothingness
Of it