THE LAST TIME I HELD HER

She was skin and bones, frail
as all skeletal remains become,
with every last breath of life
still sticking to her ribs. Every
exhale came with the burdened
anticipation of the next deep gasp.
Her eyes, a vacuous stare, looking
through me and seeing nothing but
a chance to finally go home to her rest.
Well past the need  for words; or the
ability to express the same. Her face
contorted with each painful smile,
pleads in silence for one last embrace.
Wrapping my arms under her absence,
closing around her distance; squeezing
through my need to feel something,
only to fail miserably. A flame, extinguished
well before the light in her eyes had dimmed.
And I stood in her darkness, clinging
to the shadow of her and any lasting
memory that she had left me.
The last time that I held her
was my last goodbye.



Walt

GLAD WE HAD THIS LITTLE TALK

“There is something I need to tell you”
as I lead her to a chair for a sit.
“Now, this won’t be to easy for you to hear
but I had better get on with it.”

“See, for over a year I’ve been ‘occupied’,
lost with my head in the clouds,
I wanted to tell you, but knew you would yell,
and Honey you yell fairly loud.”

“The moments at night that you wonder
where in the world I could be,
well, you see I’ve been sneaking…”
Her interest was piquing, with doubts of my fidelity.

“She’s quite a remarkable mistress,”
I heard myself starting to say,
“She gives what I need when I need it;
she’s holding my wild heart at bay.”

“I’ve taken her down to the lake shore
to walk in the wet wave swept sand,
with the sound of the gulls acapella,
She’s quite magical here in my hands.”

“She shows me that life is a wonder,
most precious of gifts to behold,
with mirth and emotion, and puerile devotion,
she fills me right down to my soul.”

“I whisper sweet things in the night time
only to hear how it sounds,
she rolls off my tongue, and when I am done,
I’m ripe for a couple more rounds.”

“A few of my friends think I’m crazy,
the rest think I’m wasting my time,
but, the ones most approving can feel the earth moving
without knowing the reason or rhyme.”

“In the darkness of my empty old homestead,
We get lost in a heartfelt embrace,
With thoughts of me growing right there, and knowing
the intimacy of that vacant space.”

“I can’t break away from her power,
A spell cast from the very first word,
You’ve given me chances, but this new romance is
The most beautiful thing that I’ve endured.”

The hurt in her eyes was heartbreaking,
the sound of her voice mixed with sobs,
she sought her composure to give her some closure,
while I felt like an insufferable slob.

But she gathered herself in an instant,
I could see the words form in her head,
when she started to speak, I turned rather meek
and just listened to what she had said.

“I don’t know why you need to torture me,
my heart is about to explode.”
The hell and the fury of this woman scorned
is about to make her thoughts implode.

“Who is she?” she said. ”No, I don’t want to know,
Just leave me to process this scene”
Now fire and anger soon put me in danger
I never had seen her so mean.

“Are you telling me, you’re having an affair?”
I panicked, “Yes, all right? It’s the end!”
“Oh good” she exhaled. “For a minute there,
I thought you were writing again.”


Walt 

JUST LUNCH

My Father.
An hour out of my work day.
Every Tuesday, every noontime.
He, the master carpenter.
He, the drummer.
Me, the wide eyed boy again.
In awe of all the demons
he has battled and defeated.
A warrior in the fight for his life.
Our old kitchen; my old man.
“How you doing, Pops?”
“Sonny, I’m dying.”
With three words
I died a bit myself.
Just lunch. Much to digest.

Walt

...AND SPEAKING OF FOOD

No cream in my coffee,
No chips on my plate,
Don’t tempt me with donuts -
I won’t take the bait.
A full thirty minutes
Each day on my bike,
And coupled at times
With a walk or a hike.
My portions have shrunk,
But my body's the same.
I’ve not lost a pound -
I need something to blame!
Decided it must be that
I’m at “that age.”
With Easter at hand now,
This war that I wage
Will go by the wayside.
Then what will become
Of me and my hips,
And my thighs and my bum?

Marie Elena