Man in the Hat by Corynn Bernhardt
Exhausted, I find myself in the grass,
Elbows sink into the mud below
My shoulders. The weight of my heavy chest
Makes them push back and sink deeper. Who cares?
Ive had a long, hard day at work. This is
The only free time I get away from
The place that makes my face dark and chalky,
The place where hammers and fellows fall hard,
The place where no light besides lanterns loom.
Even at home, I cant escape the noise.
The banging of the hammer, the clashing
Of the dish of the young boy with my wife.
Growing still, he’s learning to walk, but I
Don’t have the energy to go home and
Hold his hand or catch his fall. I’m too tired,
I’m too worn. Even his little smile
Cheer me up. So I’ll sit here,
And think of his face, his chubby cheeks, round
Like the saucers on the dinner table,
My wife washes them diligently, soft,
With so much care and concern it takes me
Back to the days when she did that for me.
Cleaning the saucers from dinner and my
She cared back then, too. So did I, once.
But that was a long time ago, too long.
Now even my work pants go days unstitched.
And the sun touches me more than she does,
Swallowing my face and my shoulders, grasping
Desperately to get one more touch. Not her.
Not us. That was a long time ago when
My bones where stronger, my muscles more toned,
And I didn’t have to come sink in the
Grass to feel any relief from this life.
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