Why Not?

568 Feb (6)

Late Night Light – photo by Wild Thing

Sound of rain
November air
Quiet house
Everyone gone
She sits alone 

Well not really
He’s there too
Lying there
As if asleep
In his casket 

Candles burning
Crystal glasses
Reflect the light
Catches her eye
She gets up 

Hand hovers
Then stops
Goes to one
“A lady,” he says
“don’t drink likker.” 

She pours
“Well Daddy,
I ain’t no lady.”
Gulping it down
She chokes 

In spite of it
Pours another
Wondering why
She’s talking
To a dead man 

Then shrugs
Why not?
Strange all day
People coming
Paying respect 

Seeing if she
Needed any doing
She snorted
Where were they
When he was ill? 

Days when
She could barely
Put another foot
Forward let alone
Cook a meal 

Changing sheets
By herself
Rolling him over
Then to the other
After a sponge bath 

Rubbing each day
His back … legs
Her own body
For a gentle touch 

Or just an hour
To herself
Where were they?
Now they bring
Food … lots of it 

She doesn’t choke
On the third drink
He’s quit talking
As if he’s given up
Why not? She has

Wild Thing ©2016

9 thoughts on “Why Not?

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