Coming Home
(for Frances)

When you explained to me
that no woman should feel
this way I
couldn’t look you
in the eye. The words
that typically rolled
off my tongue, lulled
silently deep in my bowels
among the acidity of regret
the sourness of lonliness
I wanted to say
“It’ll be okay”
“He’ll come home soon”
I wanted to make you believe
the next time he
looked you in the eye he’d
recall the joys and sorrows
of the last fifty-six years
and maybe one day
even remember your name.

                           -Ken Harmon