Sunday Lunch in Early July

At one Sunday lunch in early July,
I built up an army of how’s and why’s.
Denial was reeling; emotions, stirred up,
led to cracked hearts and glass cola cups.

I can’t believe I dressed up for the occasion.
How do they expect my feelings to stay in
when they tell me it’s over, their vowed endeavor,
a covenant that I thought would never be severed?

I remember the sleepless nights and painful times,
full of angry prayers and downcast rhymes,
and realize those wounds were for my good.
The divorce helped me grow out of my childhood.