An Old Widower Drives Home Poem by Donal Mahoney

Old Tim drove 600 miles back home
to his shed in the woods
a month after burying his wife
up north in the city where they met
more than 60 years ago.

He stayed with his kids until things
settled down as much as they could
after a matriarch dies.
On the way home he stopped for
gas and burgers and had no problem
with his stents or pacemaker.
His back was killing him but pain
doesn't take a vacation at 80.

His sister Dawn who lives down the road
had piled vittles high on the kitchen table
so Tim wouldn't have to go to the store.
No stores in the woods where Tim lives.
He grows, traps and hooks
most of what he eats.

Dawn cleaned up the shed
but Tim can still hear his wife
from the grave inveigh against
the dirt he and the coon dogs track in.

Life in the woods differs from the city
but he's happy where silence reigns
except for the whippoorwill and crow.
Skies with rainbows are beautiful
and they remind him of her.