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Digital Passions
Poetry Magazine
Anchor Point - Editor's Poem of the
Month
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Installation of a Deadbolt
by Doreen Peri |
for a moment i forgot
back hard muscles flex
hands hard work complex
diligence and swift to fix
and a mix of yes rapt me
my eyes soon trapped me
it was almost as though
nothing
ever happened
and
for a moment
i forgot
while sports announcer's voices
lulled senses dulled
nobody ever said the mind
wouldn't slip
promises are made to be
broken
one day
the neighbors stop
coming around
nobody stops by to
have a laugh
and it was just a game of football
after all or was it golf
or was it
whatever it was
it was a game
and the announcer
analyzed it
and i wasn't listening
no analysis makes
sense
and who won the game
anyway?
but there you were
the door ajar
a deadbolt in your hand
and
for a moment
i forgot
and for a moment
it was last year
or the year before
or nine years ago
a midnight
picnic on a lake
plans for growing old
talk of will you love
when we're gray
talk of
will you love
for today
talk of will you dream
my lonely away
take me to the hills
take me to the mountains
take me we would say
flowers down
a path
a toast to tomorrow
listen to each other
listen to each other
and her eyes were so bright
when she was born
i counted all her long fingers
and they all were there
thank god
for a moment i forgot
and yesterday disappeared
and i watched you walk toward me
to pick up a wrench
or a hammer
or a frigging nail or
something
and i thought i saw
your arms reach out
and with a laugh i said
i thought you were
going to hug
me
and
you looked
at me
brow furrowed
eyes divided
trying to find the
frigging hammer
and said
who me?
and the moment disappeared
and i remembered
who you aren't anymore
and the deadbolt installed
the lock on the door
the weather stripping
sealed tight
to keep out
the day
of rings exchanged
no matter what
no matter what
no matter now
for a moment i forgot
but now i can lock the door
and keep the key
and get a toolbox
full of frigging hammers
and nails and
nail the damn door shut
deadbolt tight
don't come in
and her fingers are longer now
and she wants to skate
and write poetry
and the door closes
the good-byes in her eyes
asking why daddy
why did you fix the door?
i check the lock to make sure
and it works
thank god
and i'm locked in
looking out
looking back
looking
for a hammer and a nail
and weather-stripping
to keep the cold out
(c) doreen peri 5/8/00
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