Tom Called Again (Day 12, 2017)

It’s the 12th day of National Poetry Writing Month.

Tom Called Again

The fourth time today and the
21st of her 
four days gone.
Lonely more than possessive,
he trusts her but
fears fate,
worries some random accident
will take her 
from him forever.
She finds this sweet and
somewhat sad,
that he, at eighty,
reaches for her 
like a child for a blanket
at the first, distant 
rumble of thunder
in his mind.
He has lost before
and may lose again
(she’s no spring chicken)
so she answers each call
with brightness 
and warmth,
reassurance,
and promises to be home 
soon,
knowing it will never
be soon enough.

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About semiblind

Bringing you stark existentialism since 1981.
This entry was posted in clusterfuck, fear, NaPoWriMo, people, poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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