Suspended

For some time
We have sat looking out
Across the well-manicured grounds
Where evening light bleeds
To a merciful end.

Although he hasn't spoken,
I think he knows me today.
His eyes accuse.

Soon the lids close,
Peace finds the life-scarred face,
And chin drops to rest
On his short breath chest.

As not to disturb,
Quietly, I leave the room.
Outside, a soft rain
Has taken the night.
I drive across town
To the slap-slap heartbeat
Of windshield wipers.

Once at my haven,
A two-story with blue awnings,
I enter.
My son runs to the opened doorway,

"Daddy!  Daddy!"
The words are safe upon his lips.

                         —C. S. Wiser
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