Worrying Waters

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #317

Words:  forget, sucks, tub, no, tap, spray, swing, plague, imagine, word, thump, spry

Sitting in claw-foot tub, sucking
his thumb again–tap still running–
humming tunelessly. I imagined
he would get past the incident,
not ever forgetting, but at least able
to move on. He swings an arm,
swishing his fingers in the tepid
water, sending a spray up and over
the side. I shake my head, lean over
him without a word, turn off
the water. He thumps his hand against
the white porcelain, disapproval,
and anger flaring red in his sunken
cheeks. Weeks have passed. He remains
plagued. Day after day, vague,
and unseeing. All spryness has drained
from his body as did the blood
from hers.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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2 Responses to Worrying Waters

  1. some things never leave you, haunt you, change you forever. no?
    sometimes there is no recovery, no way back.

    Difficult piece.


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