Friday, August 21, 2015

ordinary days

My husband sits quietly
you'd never know
that he went to the mat
with the grim reaper
twice in the last month

I stand before the stove
a soup of disparate ingredients

Though prayer got us through this
its seems like so much more
was needed to chase the awful, ugly
horrifying thoughts of what if away

He never was one for emotional display
but one tear running down his face
before they took him away a second time
was a masterpiece of conveyance

I slept in a chair in the family waiting room
missing all the things of life that keep me centered
sharing my heart thoughts with strangers
that are living in this realm of waiting, too

and again after a week, a week he was to come home
and again we enter the realm
of the reaper

No, you would never know by looking at him
that he has returned from that land,
a boneyard filled landscape

His body continues to heal
but somehow that one tear
tore a slice of his ordinary days
our ordinary days

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