Fixing the Past
A brisk walk in the morning delighted him.
He asked me to come,
but it was hot and I was tired.
He walked without me.
The Ring cycle fascinated him,
But I had other music to learn,
a book I was reading.
He listened alone.
He sat by the water drinking his wine,
late afternoons at the magic hour,
watching the dying sun flare on the white hulls.
But I was busy with supper and didnít join him.
I go down to the dock without wine
and watch the light fade
and think of him
in his wheelchair in the living room
vacantly facing the sea