I keep quitting iTunes.
It keeps starting up anew,
my old mate Dutch singing:
‘When things go wrong,
so wrong with you,
it hurts me too.‘
It’s not even the first song
on the list. Three down, still it plays
every time — after I switch it off.
He’s dead. He was a friend.
Even so, I don’t think he hurts
that bad for my hurt.
Is it Bill (my ex-husband, dead too)?
They were close. And Bill
loved all Dutch’s music. Yes,
he might use that for a message,
and he would care that much
if I was hurting. (I am.)
My black cat prowls every room
stalking something unseen, hissing.
He normally doesn’t react
when Bill drops in for a visit.
What’s different now?
Andrew, the living husband,
tells me he has excruciating pain.
He thinks he will have to leave me.
Is it Death that lurks
in my house? Is that the hurt
I am both warned of and comforted for?
Submitted to The Poetry Pantry #91 at Poets United
and Open Night #35 at dVerse.
Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, most of which are my own, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
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