A Matched Pair
I frown into the mirror.
What happened?
Yesterday, we were newlyweds.”
"Fifty years ago," he says.
“You lost half a century.”
There's my husband, slouching
in the recliner, thinning hair,
frayed collar, expanding stomach.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
I sidle over, plop into his lap,
and sling my arm around his neck.
"Remember Great Falls, fishing
in the Missouri River until sunset,
A & W root beer in frozen mugs?
“How about that May snowstorm
in Yellowstone, or camping in Canada,
our sleeping bags zipped together as one?
Or Holder Lake, Bird Woman Falls,
and fishing in a stream no wider
than this chair we’re sitting in?
“Remember our two parakeets,
perched above everything we owned
in that forty-nine Chevy coupe
on the trip home to Missouri?
Or the car, stop-dead in Roundup,
Montana, leaving us stranded
for three days, waiting for parts?
“”I remember that sexy redhead,”
he says. “What happened to her?”
“Not sure, but I think she ran off
with a pot-bellied old man.”
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
