View single post by timmy
 Posted: Sat Jul 14th, 2018 04:10 pm
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Joined: Fri Jun 9th, 2006
Location: Oz, Minnesota USA
Posts: 1086
Craig is talking about his impending
divorce—I do feel for him a little—

as his wife walked into their lake home
three weeks shy of their fiftieth anniversary—

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows,
the air seems active, the course is green,
divisible. A nice looking woman passes,
Craig’s sorrow narrows, and I can see
he’d like to step out and speak to her

and announced she was leaving, she found
someone new; Craig remarks

she looked extremely tidy for such
a stressful situation, almost a look of grace

upon her face. When he didn’t respond, she turned
and left and Craig laughed, leaving—left

the irony was almost too much for him. Yesterday,
morning they had been talking about the kind of wine

they might serve at the gathering. I nod, order
another Black Russian for him, a Jameson for me.

The woman has long passed; Craig is fixated
on the bouquet of white roses on the patio table,
so beautiful, he says, but I’m not sure he’s speaking
about the woman or the flowers

“Have you ever heard of anything so stupid?” Again,
I don’t answer, think to myself, kindness should be

a requirement for any marriage. The lines under Craig’s eyes
look like two bags of ice water. I’ve never been so glad to be me.

Last edited on Sat Jul 14th, 2018 04:12 pm by timmy