Tuesday, June 7, 2016

sunday return.


you walked with him
to the street, another wet,
grey morning, and
his arms detained carefully, with
sparse words matted together
before the taxi arrived
for a blurry parting, nothing
like you fabricated.
the driver’s broken english, while
stroking a rosary, which swung from
the rearview mirror where
he snuck glances through you, and
you misheard him say
“he’s not the one” as you
latched your seatbelt
watching for signs along the way
arriving far too early, as
you usually do.


© 6.7.2016 heather brager

1 comment:

  1. The grand kids took a trip. While they were away, my dog had no one to play with during the daylight hours. Yesterday, I heard him barking, and upon investigation, saw that he was debating a very large turtle. I considered moving this ten pound turtle, but to where? And, there was not much I could do to deter an eighty pound dog. And, I was about to be late for a meeting. I left them alone, figuring they would work things out without an audience.

    This morning, I stepped out, and in the gravel driveway saw what was left of the turtle. I hated it happened. My first thought was to move the remains before the grand kids came back home. As I got closer to the turtle, I realized this was not a turtle. It was the kid's favorite playground ball, or what was left of it, after the dog took it to task. Now, I had a different dilemma. As I was picking up the evidence to discard, wouldn't you know, here came the grand kids, earlier than expected. If they noticed the deflated shell of their flattened ball, they did not acknowledge. They also barely greeted me, as they rushed past, to meet the dog, halfway.

    Kids have a way of prioritizing, you know. Theirs was a grand reunion. I tossed to remnants of the orb, and went on my way, knowing that, at least for a little while, all things were in order.

    Note: Response written while listening to "The xx - Intro" ... :)

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