Friday, May 18, 2007
A Friendship
He made restless forays
into the edge of our marriage.
One Christmas Eve he came late,
his dark hair crackling with frost,
and ate his carnation buttonhole
to amuse the baby.
When I had the second child,
he came to the foot of my bed at dusk,
bringing pineapples and champagne,
whispering "Are you awake?" --
singing a snatch of opera.
The Nurse tapped him on the shoulder.
At the end, we took turns at his bedside.
I curled up in the chair; listened to each breath
postponing itself indefinitely.
He opened his eyes once, and I leaned forward:
"Is there anything you want?"
"Now she asks", he murmured.
CONNIE BENSLEY (1986)
Found Here.
Found Here.
Comments:
You do know, a new post from you right now makes us all go "OOOOOOOH THE BABY!!!!".
However, cool poem, thanks!
However, cool poem, thanks!
I especially liked this image:
bringing pineapples and champagne,
whispering "Are you awake?" --
singing a snatch of opera.
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bringing pineapples and champagne,
whispering "Are you awake?" --
singing a snatch of opera.
