Over the fence, the dead settle in
for a journey. Nine o’clock.
You are alone for the first time
today. Boys asleep. Husband out.
A beer bottle sweats in your hand,
and sea lavender clogs the air
with perfume. Think of yourself.
Your arms rest with nothing to do
after weeks spent attending to others.
Your thoughts turn to whether
butter will last the week, how much
longer the car can run on its partial tank of gas.
i like this poem and when i read this poetry it make me think to the painter edward hopper, there is simplicity and mistery and plain imagination
i thought it was a great poem. it was very pretty
I think this is a really great poem that although it’s short shows a lot of meaning.
makes you wonder how valid your life really is to yourself once you stop and think about it