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.”

 

QUEEN? 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.

 

 

Author: MacEwan