De-constructing by Judy Melchiorre

His breakfast smells like ripe tomatoes
and promises,
pledged in youth and romance,
a starter home, a child or two,
a job with promotions and perks,
naive happiness.

We are older now,
each creak and crack
in the house has a name,
unlike our shadow children.
He works so hard,
pale faced, heavy-footed,
listlessness engraved
into his bones.

Desire distills into an uneasy
companionship,
his hand restive in mine,
his shoulder sharp.
I do not hear the word love,
only silence,
and the foundation settling.


 Judy Melchiorre
Judy is a poet based in Richmond, VA and a member of River City Poets, James River Writers and the Poetry Society of Virginia. She has been published in three anthologies and was a co-editor of River City Poets Anthology, Lingering in the Margins, released in April 2019. She also works as a substitute teacher for moody high schoolers. She is married and lives with her husband, two snuggly dogs and one sassy cat.

Follow us!
Facebooktwitterinstagram
Share this post with your friends.
Facebooktwitterpinterest

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.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