Clockwork (#PoetryMonday*)

The clock on the mantel
ticks. On the couch the man
works his crossword
in his robe and slippers.
He looks at the clock. Gets up.
Hobbles to his bedroom
and dresses.
Shuffles to the kitchen.
Makes something to eat
standing over the sink.
Leftovers again.
He puts the plate and
fork into the dishwasher.
Goes back to the crossword.
This is the first day
of the rest of his life,
he thinks, a slight ache
chiming in his heart.
He puzzles a moment.
She’s been gone now,
let’s see, about two years.
That’s right isn’t it?
Soon. Maybe.
He sighs and focuses
more intently
on the paper’s daily
challenges. They are
more than enough
for the man on the couch
as the clock on the mantel
tocks.




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* It’s PoMo! To learn about PoMo (POetry MOnday), click here. It is said that time heals all wounds. Do you find that to be true? Have you lost someone? How long did you mourn? How did you  mourn? What helped? Please share your experiences and memories in the comments!