EVERYTHING’S A LITTLE OFF
There’s weather coming as my people say.
I feel it in my gut, my air-conditioned arms. I can’t
get comfortable. With sweater, I’m too warm, want to strip
down to bare flesh. When I do, chills form along my aging
arms. I list a trip to the post office after work, a walk in the heat
by the river; at Bob’s Market I’ll buy a cartload of snacks for Dad,
flowers for Mom’s grave. Once home, I’ll warm the last bratwurst,
corn-on-the cob, eat Memorial Day baked beans cold.
I could open a beer. I won’t.
Friday, I move Dad to Assisted Living. He reports
it’s all too much. Yes, 40 years of retirement, and suddenly,
he’s old. That’s how it goes. It’s all fine, until it isn’t.
As my people say, there’s weather coming in. Everything’s
a little off.
7 thoughts on "EVERYTHING’S A LITTLE OFF"
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I can relate, enjoyed this poem!
that last bit….a little bit brutal, but so very real and needed.
Love the circular nature built on the skeleton of daily details. Great stuff!
amazing how what goes for Dad goes for you and me
The depth between the lines is beautiful.
The starting line settles me into the poem: There’s weather coming as my people say.
The ending is a perfect bookend:As my people say, there’s weather coming in. Everything’s
a little off.
And; love the middle– accurate accounting of what’s off.