Something about Tuesdays
by Richard Vince
She sits, waiting patiently for
Her washing to finish, as
Buses roar past and couples
Argue animatedly outside.
My clothes rotate constantly
In the dryer behind me as the light
Slowly fades once again, and
Her eyes dance elegantly over
Words of paperback economics.
She gets up to check the progress of
Her remaining washing, but
A message momentarily distracts her
The same way that she is
Unintentionally distracting me,
Her vague yet powerful reflection
Drawing my eyes as I look
Away from her.
The evening breeze carries to me
The smells from outside, but
She seems oblivious to everything,
Immersing herself in elasticity
And inflation and all those
Other things I've missed
While random recollections bring me
Close to tears, her face doesn't change;
Still the same unshakable concentration
As the buttons on her clothes clatter
Against the glass behind her, and
Cars, now needing headlights,
Pass frequently outside, and the
Grey clouds begin slowly to
Make good on their threats.
And suddenly, leaving an old
Rail ticket to mark her page,
She disappears into the
Soon to be night, and I am left to
Wander back over the road,
My evening's task completed.
Posted on 04/20/2004
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Anne Howe on 04/20/04 at 11:18 PM|
Brilliant ...... i found myself listening to your tale (and hearing the buttons clattering against the glass) .... an excellent read
|Posted by Michelle Angelini on 04/20/04 at 11:54 PM|
Wonderful! I hated going to the laundromat. It was a necessary evil, unlike the pleasant reflective experience in this poem. Very visual.