Ebb Tide
She stands in
the doorway waving
half in, half
out.
Sharp edge of
the frame cuts her in two.
We said our
good-byes hours ago
but she,
unwilling to
let me leave
creates a
current with her movements,
tugs me back
to the kitchen table
coffee cup in
hand
to talk about
native strawberries
and what she will cook for dinner.
We do not
journey far
and always
come back to where we began.
I balance a
bag of tomatoes she has given me
struggle with
my car keys.
Like a buoy
tied to
something deeper,
she watches
from the door and waves.
When I again
look up
she moves
toward me…
stroke, breath
stroke, breath
away from
this house
where they
have lived since before I was born.
stroke, breath
In the parlor
he silently sits.
Tints of blue
and gray flicker on his lopsided face.
Only his eyes
move now.
stroke,
breath
Dishes are
done.
Laundry sways
in the breeze.
Days and
nights stretch beyond the horizon.
Hypnotic,
stroke, breath
Arctic,
stroke, breath
Surge,
stroke
Recede.
© Elizabeth
Thomas, 2003