At Foyers

                                                        for Jessica

           

Donnelly sat in the kitchen at Foyers

at midnight

while an actress

home from her play

just stood at the stove

lost in thought

making herself cocoa

the household

asleep in their rooms

it was late

he was annoyed she was there

disturbing solitude

oblivious that poetry

had come to life

in front of him

just a memory now

that actress

so Donnelly’s assets increase

as his life winds down

and can shards of broken poetry

be reassembled    

made whole    containers

for meditations?

or will we know of him just these scraps?

through Google  

Donnelly searched the net for names

sometimes found

an old friend

untimely

dead

                                    © Dick Russell, 2013, 2016