(untitled #33) Poem by bob barci

The breeze feels wonderful
on this warm summer evening
As usual,
I am on the front porch.
And like many times before,
I wait for the arrival of the sister
who will cook dinner for me.
Jessica, now 4 years old,
will dance around the livingroom floor for me
and insist we play Barbie dolls together.
Kimmie, now a typical teenager of 16,
has taken to wearing black lipstick,
and if she decides to join us for dinner at all,
will literally have only a bite or two,
and then retire to her room for records and phone calls.
The husband,
will make his brief appearance,
and spend the rest of the evening in bed, sleeping,
and forget that I was even there.
While I wait with impatience,
I don’t mind just sitting there
feeling the breeze
and watching the cars go by.