A Periodic Journey
/A monthly sojourn on a dreary night.
————
The subtle brightness of the light
shown through the dark, unstormy night
of steady rain, chilled summer air,
with hardly any people there
who might traverse by light of day
the street on which the town hall lay.
One woman with her child in hand
endured the cold by harsh demand
of drunken spouse returning late,
whose temperament would not abate
till Sunday noon, or later yet,
and they must leave, though tired and wet.
Although the way was damp and dark
she knew the route well—through the park,
across the square, the bakery shop,
where in daytime she would stop,
meant they were almost half-way there;
the comfort of her sister’s care.
They’d pass the coach beside the lamp
where cabby made his evening camp,
awaiting those who’d pay their way
and help him keep his debts at bay.
He knew them well and touched his cap—
they had no fare to break his nap.
A lonely gendarme came in view
and smiled at them, although he knew
they wouldn’t stop tonight to talk—
the weather forced a swifter walk—
but he would watch for one more block
until they turned beneath the clock.
Her sister, wakened where she couched,
gave warm embrace to both and vouched
she’d care for them, just as before—
and on their next trip to her door.
They knew her husband, loved and dear,
would toast each payday, twelve per year.
By Ken Gosse
From: United States
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/ken.gosse/