Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

One More Good Year

I just need one more good year,
he thought, but wouldn’t demand it,
not knowing where to direct
his fire. Should he look up,
shake a fist? What if his wife saw? She felt
powerless enough, had worn down
the cartilage in her knees
to make it all better. She was
a machine of life, would
churn on without him, lonely, fueled
by regrets, although he had every
reason to smile, couldn’t stop
the love welling in his chest. His wife
asked, Are you hungry?
He laughed. All their good and bad times
had waxed and waned, tides
merged into a composite. He imagines
sea foam swirling warm, tickling his ankles because,
well, why not? Everything
will be alright, he said. She shook
her head. He began to weep,
realizing his joy held the secret
of life. She needed it, but had no way
to accept it, and there was no way
he couldn’t take it with him.
James Powers-BlackJames Powers-Black’s publication credits include Jonathan, Theodate, and Anon. He is working on his first novel, a re-imagining of Penelope’s story from The Odyssey that focuses on the partner left behind by a closeted, gay soldier stationed in Iraq. Originally from Kansas City, Missouri, he now lives in central Pennsylvania with his husband and dogs.

Categories: Poetry

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