No Return
In the last voluntary movement of his life,
He meanders.
The promise of a Saturday liquid with sunshine
Intrigues him.
There were circular tins glinting with silver
Fragments of glass.
Narrow trees adrift with yellow leaves
Edge nervously along the back and past the front.
His children gathered
And quickly an uncertain guilt creeps in.
Their heads seem empty, their smiles nonexistent
Lighting the windows
Following the car with their unblinking eyes
His wife, he realizes, will not have returned
No comments:
Post a Comment