As I stoop
To pull up the old blue mens socks
I’ve worn with new shoes,
So they now fit the old feet
That prevent my toppling forward,
I notice the bones beneath my skin
So that when we stop to talk
I watch how perfect teeth,
Are long within the skull…
The wrinkle beside her mouth,
How it moves with her chin…
“You’re looking tanned,” she butts in
“looking good.”
“It’s a disguise,” I reply.
Disposing of my pop can,
With a tight grip and a crack
She says reminds her of my knees,
And hip.
And with a laugh, I let life back in
To forget the horror
Of how much I miss him.
To forget the horror
Of how much I miss him.
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