One hazy, sleepy Southern night.
The moon was waxing across
A clouded sky,
Jacob, that mangy mutt, was scuttling
Across the neighbors yard
I met the gentleman,
behind an illusion of a
front porch light
But I invited him
in for perhaps
a coffee or nightcap,
; I must say
I catered to him and we
nursed chipped mugs collected
since I was young, back when I first
fell in love. I know that now, I had
and no bad ending
can change that.
he took off his hat,
shuffled his hair
his eyes dull
my kitchen bright,
hung it by the side of his elbow, hide his face low
Distinguishing characteristics. His voice was soft
Husky and he commented that
It was hot
in my kitchen. I allowed the screen door
a chance to breathe.
What was I thinking when I let
you in? I asked his forehead
“I’d wished you’d sooner” I realized
then his throat was parched I invited
him closer to the couch. My child,
tucked in bed, coughed.
but this was an old, old friend.
You’re not as
skinny as you used to be ; he looked at me.
Neither are you –
he broke –
- anything like what I left you.
You left a child, I raised my nose to the sky.
I left a stranger, a cool breeze spoke from a window.
The mantel was littered with photographs
gone, he stood a frown
and I knew what he was going to
“I had once thought these would be ours,” he put
His fingertips all over the
What made you come back, how
Did you find me
“How? how is an interesting
were the girl who
would have asked why. What a stranger
you have become!” Not to me, I replied, carefully
watching his eyes. I knew you lied,
but what was it about / “what is it all about “
His jacket was crisp, if not
a bit wrinkled near
his scent lingered across a
A car pulled up next door, the clock wound down
At the feet of it’s passengers, towards the pavement and in
Their house. It was empty, then. One
“Are they,” this stranger wondered,
They are like whoever they are, I answered
On my tea. “You look beautiful,” something fell
to the floor
And you, like hell, I nodded towards the wrinkles and
It will never go away,
that, we agreed. “But nor will I,” he promised.
You always promised.
“I’m not here to argue about what went wrong.”
My toes crept into the blanket by
our side. Why then,
why did you come back.
A smile drew between the lines of
that face; “There it is,” he said.
I never did understand, said I back.