Joyce Rushing: A Prose Poem
We are back to back, He in his lift chair facing the silent TV.
I in my computer chair, working.
I hear his low shaky voice, talking so sweet.
He is the mostly silent type so I listen carefully.
“I can’t explain how much you mean to me, sweetheart.”
My heart melts as he continues to speak.
“God sent me an angel when he gave me you.”
I hold my breath knowing the effort it takes for him to speak.
“You are always by my side; you walk with me, you sleep with me.
And you are the prettiest thing I ever saw. …. Beautiful Queen.”
I fly to the front of his chair and see him stroking the cat.
“Why don’t you talk to me like that? “
“DITTO” he says smiling.