she has been through his pockets
through his wallet
looked at the collection of receipts
read the scribbled note
on the back of a business card
made the call
heard the voice
remained silent
understood
~
she was proud of her hands once
soft skin
long fingers
so suited for the piano
she'd loved to play
that he used to listen to
now she thinks them ugly
useless
knotted joints and stiffness
ragged nails
no more piano
ha
no-one to listen anyway
~
she knows where he's been
where he is right now
she shouldn't know
shouldn't have gone searching
through his private space
but what real choice was there
and now she is waiting
trying to decide
act the fool
or deal with it
stay or go
how
~
she rubs her hands together
listens to the rasping sound they make
studies the lines and lumps
thinks
when did they
grow so ugly
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: February 21st, 2018 00:03
- Comment from author about the poem: The Book of Evenings.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments2
Life changes.
It does, for sure, GF. Nothing stays the same.
Frank,
A fine write with a great
question that’s not easy
to answer! What would
I do? I’m not sure! It’s
complex! Not a simple
solution to such a difficult
situation! A thought
provoking read my
friend!
~Laura~
Very complex Laura. Particularly for many women who are disadvantaged by dependent children, or by money. Not as easy as simply leaving.
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