42
Days Since the Death of His Wife
The
lonely one visits,
pulled
from his solitude.
I
offer him tea,
herbal
balm in an open wound.
Refusing
the tea, he accepts a beer,
cold
comfort mixed with warm memories.
Staring
out the window,
he
drinks decisively,
cursing
and growling
at
no one in particular. ~~~
First published in Wilderness House Literary Review
September 29, 2014
No comments:
Post a Comment