Years Later

He was filling bags of brown rice

when a pale, wispy young woman

opened the door to the co-op.

She stopped just inside the doorway,

her eyes drifting vaguely.

“I’m looking for a man,” she said.

Unsure just what she meant,

he ventured a joke of sorts.

“Here I am,” he replied, “if you don’t mind

one or two grey hairs.”

And that should have been the end of it

once she answered him back.

Instead she just stood there looking

as if she would wilt.

He left his work behind him

and brought her a chair.

And so now here they are years later.

He’s filling bags of brown rice,

and she is aimlessly humming her tune

while she stocks the shelves.

At dinner he will cook his usual dish,

which she will eat as if she had never

seen it before.

Then after they listen to music, they will go up to bed,

to the same bed where he tucked her in

after hanging CLOSED on the window.

Knute Skinner