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