Sunday, June 22, 2014



Evening light dozed on
his unwashed dishes;
years' old dust collected behind
hanging china plates;
the Sacred Heart looked on,
as ever,
smoked and sagging.

His face, at the table,
jerked unaccountably;
sometimes he choked on his tongue.
The mist of his young face
had cleared completely;
his smile was in a biscuit box
with his wedding photographs, letters
and the pieces of a broken pocket watch.

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