Dr. Grammar - Sketches and Poems

YOU AND THE ONCE WIFE

On the day my once-wife moved away
You woke to find me weeping.
You held me closely all that day and knew
I wept for the death of an us
for the death of a dream
for her pain and for mine.
I wept for ten years of my life.
You woke to find me weeping
on the day my once-wife moved away.

AND DID NOT DREAM

I wake having slept with the vengeance of the worn.
I did not dream.
I feel a coldness here,
am always chilled now.
I shave over a sticky sink not sure
why you are not huddled warmly under covers
a room away.
My sounds seek out the places you left behind
and reverberate.
The clatter of myself is deafening.
My single coffee cup, striped by days of unwashed tears,
is now a morning cup of bitters.
A few brave birds are moving.
One hero sings; he dares meet the dawn with a song.
I am survivng the death of many beliefs.

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