A Coming Gloom 1997 Poem by Terry Collett

A Coming Gloom 1997



Where shall we meet?
Nuala says over the telephone.

She hears Una tell her
a place in Dublin and the time.

She hears the front door open
and Brian call out:
I'm home, Nuala.

She holds the phone
close to her ear,
listening to Una's voice
on the other end.

Brian enters the room
and sits in his armchair
and studies his wife's behind.

Nuala knows Brian's in the room
and tries to talk to Una
without her husband realizing
who she is talking to.

Una asks her if she is all right.

Yes, I'm well,
she replies,
trying to convey a sign
of Brian's presence,
I think he is there,
why don't you go see?

Una hesitates,
goes silent,
falls in and says,
Ok, I understand,
meet me there
if you can.

Una puts down the phone
on her end.

Nuala holds the phone
and continues a conversation
with herself:
yes, try that, bye.

Brian notes the lovely legs
his wife has,
the way they go up
to her fine behind.

Nuala puts down the phone
and smiles at Brian.

A friend has mislaid her husband,
she says to Brian,
how was work?

Work is fine,
he says,
how about me and you
and the bed before dinner?

Nuala wishes it was Una
asking that;
she who wanted
to take her to bed.

Nuala nods and he
takes her hand
and they walk
to the bedroom.

He is thinking
of the sex to come,
she sensing
a coming gloom.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: love and life
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