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
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