Wonderful poem, Lawrence.
On Fri, Oct 16, 2015 at 7:19 AM, Lawrence Helm <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
wrote:
Ahead of me in the aisle
An old man sat in one of
The store’s electric carts
Looking down at the box of
Cereal in his hand. As I
Neared I saw he was asleep.
The box dropped to the floor.
His eyes opened and he looked
Down. His expression didn’t
Change as he reached for it.
A store-clerk rushed to pick
It up and put it back in his hand.
At home I looked from shelf to
Shelf, pulling out a book, putting
It back. Fearing the empty tablet
On my desk, I’d no Satan to
Portray nor white whale to spear.
Going down to the garage I lifted
Weights until my head hurt. My
Grip was stronger than it seemed,
But she still slipped away. I thought
Of her less and less. I taped her
Photo in my tablet but she still
Dwindled. The house hummed
Not unlike she did during her
Last hours, breathing out the
Air one sigh at a time. Picking
Up my tablet I sighed and sighed.
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