Photo: lacavaacupuncture.com
Till Something Resolved
Screen door squeaked around five
the linoleum worn by his steps
he turned on the radio
music streaming
anonymously to his ears
while he sets to with dinner,
as always, the same simple fare,
and he’d bathe and tend her
feed her with love,
she’d rasp her gratitude,
it’s not what they’d planned,
lost were the card nights
the bar with the boys,
their dates were bedpans,
face washers and pills,
her nights were his nights,
till something resolved.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
