imagining what was in his head while walking by his door

August 24, 2012 § 4 Comments

my adrenaline well
dried up about the time I lost hope
of waltzing out of
the armed doors
to be among the
creatures so wonderfully rendered
in marble and scattered about
the landscaped perfection
of the grounds

even my occasional hobby of
measuring my degree of decrepitude
against that of the other residents
holds little interest
for me anymore

so I wait with
tenacious grasp
on the tether
for the man in the
starched smock to
pronounce soul blind
that the lives of my
children are now
officially
post-burden

but, levitation is another matter
at times, when all I can hear is
a room alarm blaring unanswered
in another part of the building

I float out of this bed
take my fishing gear down from
the garage wall
and stand knee deep
in a creek
my wife not ten yards away
in a straw hat and fashionable
sun glasses
reading the book
she was
reading the month
she left us

2012 Fred Whitehead

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