Tuesday, August 18, 2020

where did he go?

he was a rebel
for quite a while, many years.
never
bright with school
or work,
his hands were his
tools,
his glib manner,
his
way of mixing drinks,
of finding
home
at the end of any bar,
on a stool,
or behind it.
and then he married.
and suddenly
he was
in an apron,
his hair cut short.
mowing the lawn
and walking dogs.
a grandchild on his lap.
saying words that she
preferred.
thinking her thoughts,
quiet, as if
he wasn't there.
his teeth repaired.
a clean shirt,
his shoes shined.
he became who she was,
my friend
had disappeared.

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