| |
Jangled Nerves --Chop 111
My fingers fly fast on the typewriter keys.
I'll leave her a note, my land-lady to please.
We've had some long talks as we wait for our men,
and she doesn't know when she will see hers again.
Mine's coming home and I'm traveling to meet him.
I know he's been hurt, but I'm eager to greet him.
I can't really believe I'll soon be in the sky.
Common sense tells me those big things can't fly.
I'll reveal the secret that he doesn't know,
not a secret much longer, I'm beginning to show.
Cigarette in my hand is burning my fingers
as smoke from the last in small room, still lingers.
I empty full ashtray of butts, some stained red
and look again for lost earring under my bed.
The lone gold earring still lies there with no mate
but my taxi has come, looking for it must wait.
I put my ticket in it as I pick up my purse,
still wondering if I am his wife or his nurse.
I talk to myself as I close and lock door,
reminding myself again, how much I hate war.
Copyright ©
Joyce Johnson
|