There's almost nothing to be heard, except the cooktop
Burner's hiss and the dishwasher's upset stomach sound.
The grandkids are here, but their parents are gone.
The missus is back, but she's outside with them. A day
Not so wretched as yesterday's ending, as I conjure
Dinner from junk in the freezer and cabinets, alone,
So gaily alone. I'm an astronaut plodding an unhealthy
Planet, okay for now, but who knows what will come,
A hole in my spacesuit, the grandkids inside? I will
Celebrate silence and solitude now, as manifold threats
To them loom.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 76 times
Written on 2024-06-15 at 01:40

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