THEREAFTERA Poem by Betty Hermeleepostmortem.....
THEREAFTER
I sit, alone, with my baby who shall assuredly know that his father passed away I could never explain the truth to him The lie that I shall bear to my grave This is quite unsettling, yet I own it
Hours later, my head pops up Oh dear, I must have been sleeping T’s 5 O’clock in the evening At once I forget where I am and what transpired Then that darkness and pain shroud me once more Timidly, I creep to the front door A taxi awaits me outside
The ride is solemn, though the driver tries to Cajole me He must note my sour face And attempts to elevate my spirits With some pleasant conversation I exchange with a timid voice He queries if I am a tourist or a local Well, with my American accent I am surely not a local I reveal that I just lost my husband and I am grieving He pulls the taxi to the curb, turn his head to view My stained face Then apologizes profusely And attempts to console me with his words I am astonished that this kind soul would take the time To spend even a minute with my dis-spirited mood We leave the curbside and he continues his way All the while to hold up the little energy there is in my core As we approach the hotel, I grasp my wallet to pay him And he insists that the ride is free In addition, he hands me his card And begs me to reach out to him for a ride again Then reveals that his wife died two years ago
© 2025 Betty HermeleeAuthor's Note
Featured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
13445 Views
11 Reviews Added on August 25, 2025 Last Updated on August 25, 2025 AuthorBetty HermeleeBlack Mountain, NCAboutMy love of poetry results from my love of art. As a painter I am able to express myself on a canvas. As a poet my words come from my heart, my moods, sometimes sad, mostly upbeat. I like to use vivid .. more.. |


Flag Writing