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#7 - Old Folks at Home
by Linda FullerThe temperature hasn’t gotten out of the 30’s for weeks
John rues the day they moved into this old, drafty house
Dressing in layers, he spends a good deal of time standing over the ancient floor furnace
Mary runs hot and cold since the menopause
Right now she’s in the kitchen standing over a pot of vegetable soup
The rising steam reddens her round face and sticks tendrils of hair to her neck
She inhales the savory fragrance of the soup and wonders if their daughter will call tonight
As she ladles the soup into chipped blue bowls, she calls to John to come to the table
They eat silently, each with their own thoughts
The windows rattle; a wind has come up
Their daughter doesn’t call
01/07/2011 Author's Note: Poem-a-Day January 2011 #7.
Posted on 01/08/2011
Copyright © 2024 Linda Fuller
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ken Harnisch on 01/08/11 at 06:52 AM I've been at this table more than once in this cold a house...excellent poem, Linda |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 01/08/11 at 01:40 PM You go girl! You are on a roll! |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 01/08/11 at 05:34 PM ...what a scenic vista of reality. more than poignant...stabbing. |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 01/08/11 at 05:39 PM I'm not elderly, but I am aloneI too, sit and hope the phone rings. Sad, but real. Excellent write. |
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