The frilly white edge of mattresses,
Fluffy pillows, and quilts, lines the windows,
Red ribbons and bows across the top.
'I love this one Ed; it's so soft.'
A vase of yellow roses in full bloom
Pales on the counter in the August sun,
Heavy and broken over, burdened by
Their own weight. 'Be careful Lucy.'
A petal falls to the worn green carpet.
Gray and threadbare, frayed at the door as she
Scuffles across the floor between box springs
And mattresses of marble white,
Spaced exactly three feet apart, front to
Back, and side to side, 'We can have it there
This evening, ' he says, like a clown in
Slacks, a white shirt and socks...also white.
'Your back will feel so much better now Ed.'
He looks up and helps her sit down, gently
Stroking the back of her hand as she looks
Around at the dated green walls,
And then down. 'Let's go home Lucy; it's late.'
I waited and opened the door, watching
Them drive away before walking next door
To the liquor store for a pack of smokes.
This evening, ' he says, like a clown in Slacks, a white shirt and socks...also white. as she looks Around at the dated green walls, very fine portrayal of agins and its pains, suffering, mental and physical. Unwillingness to leave this life….thinking of the past. Fallling into a sort of depression and hopelessness. Thank you very much for this great poem. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Other people have wives, we have poetry! ;) I heard a doctor say that the effects of smoking will manifest 30 years later. Trust me, you wanna stay out of hospitals!