The Beauty Shop at the Corner of Here and Gone

With the twilight
of the work day
in your eye
You said-
Do you have any idea how many
of my customers are dead?
Were you actually counting?
But I should have known
the answer to the question
is improbably high
just thinking about it
extinguished what was left
of the twinkling in your eye.

We are both using reserves of force
we’d been saving
for our own rainy day.
Life, love, the children, the job,
the cars, the house, God and now
your mother
my dad,
in their comatose
state of survival…
Most nights we are lucky
if a shot of whiskey
or a glass of wine
will aid in our revival.
And when the evening
like a candle burned
presents us to the bed
we try to rest but
we plug our selves in to
the universe of
diminishing returns
instead.

I am so sorry.
I should have known better
than to dream at the table,
especially while
you were contemplating the dead.
Co-mingling Wednesday night leftovers,
whiskey and wine,
along with the dearly departed…
it was bound to end badly.
And here is the proof-
You gave me permission
to have my little dream
and leave you
at the corner of Here and Gone.
While I am away,
I am sure,
you will still be counting
the bodies-
You were counting them still
in the glow of the TV-
I could see
your lips were moving-
but you never said another
word of it to me.