I still think of you
somewhere in this vast continent
called America
You’re close to 69 years old
I have my memories
of your blonde being
that turned my blood molten steel hot
so many, many nights ago
before age also snuck up on me
I now sometimes walk with a limp
A young guy asked me
the other day if I had any grandkids
I guess I might have had grandkids
had we married, had I pursued
a living teaching English to provide a home
for us
I couldn’t and I don’t blame you
for leaving a man who chose
writing over you
A man who still doesn’t understand
what the hell a 4K package is
I think of you
somewhere hopefully alive
in America, where people
Want to believe dreams can come true
As our almost did,
If only for a little while |
Fred Byrnes began his writing career under professor-poet Dan Murray. He holds a Bachelor of Arts in English from Dowling College, where he has taught creative writing at the Hausman Center for Disabled Students. He is the author of No Name on the Fastball, World Trade Center Poems, Handle With Care and other collections of poetry.
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