Dorothy

Dorothy


You read Marvin Bell then stare at me
like a dog
waiting for its food bowl to fill.
You painted the living room red
then covered it all with pictures.
You painted the bedroom green
and took all the lights out.

Downstairs, I helped an old woman
take her trash out
and held her thank you between my fingers
until I could tell you,
but you worked late that night.
I tried to write your name on the shopping list
on the fridge
and mark a line through it.
One less thing I need.
But you burned it and sprinkled the ashes
in my coffee cup.

Outside, the new bushes are flowering.
I found one before the kids could kill it
and pressed it in a book of poetry.
Whenever guests wander to the bookshelves,
you point to it, over their shoulders,
and I go to the kitchen for more ice.


C.L.Bledsoe

Posted over on Lilylit Review