Return to Top of Page
Menu
  • Close
  • About Us
  • Past Issues
  • Contributors
  • Donate
  • Opportunities
  • Staff
  • Submissions
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
Literary Mama
  • Current Issue
  • Archives
  • Departments
  • Blog

Poetry | June 2012

his process

By Robyn Nicole Lee

after the call,
after the silence
and the burying his face in his pillow,
his back to me
and our daughter who chatters
and slaps him
pitter-patter with her little hands–
after i take her
to the living room
to give him alone time,
he emerges, doesn’t mention
the news that we both know
i already know.
did you still want me to clean out your car? he asks.
i think i’m going to build a fire,
start the grill,
cook some burgers.
only as he steps on the threshold
of the back porch
does he mention arrangements,
in passing,
and then proceeds to dump old charcoal,
discard yesterday’s ashes.

2 replies on “his process”

Jessicasays:
June 5, 2012 at 10:12 am

Great poem. I feel like I was there with him when he got the news.

Reply
Kim McMechansays:
June 21, 2012 at 5:29 pm

Perfect.

Reply

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Share This Page

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Email
  • Copy Link

Robyn Nicole Lee

Learn More

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Don't miss out on Literary Mama news and updates

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Instagram
  • RSS

© 2021 Literary Mama | Search Site | About Us | Staff | Submissions | Privacy Policy