My Gypsy WifeA Poem by R. S. MorrisInspired by Leonard Cohen song of same name.Involved in my own life. Home early, as a nice surprise.I should've known better. I'm smart, but not that wise. My wife is home everyday. Rarely goes out, mostly stays in. Truly didn't want to believe, stories I had heard from a friend. The screen door opens quietly, as I slowly stepped in. Hauntingly still, the room is empty. Not a sound coming from within. I wonder, where is my wife? Oh man, I hope she's alright. My mind starts to wander. There's that guilt I seem to invite. Thinking of time spent, at that tired old cafe. Sitting, but not speaking, both of us there, both far away. Her eye's hiding behind glasses. Thoughts getting the best of me. She's traveling to a far away place. Trying to hide what I plainly see. Heard the tales, but I didn't listen. Crazy they are, we have a good life. Is it my mind that wanders? Seems to me, it's my gypsy wife's. Now she's gone again, as I make the small talk. Where's she wandered off to? I'm here, she's out for a walk. Where is my gypsy wife going? Where has my gypsy wife been? If it's my mind wandering, maybe I'm the gypsy then. Thoughts, loud in the dusty corner. Hear nothing but questions inside. A car door slams its mark. What to say or not, I must decide. The stories filled my head, Stories that I never believed. Maybe my friend never told me. Is my mind playing tricks on me?Don't know what to say. The pain slices like a knife. All this time wondering, am I the gypsy, or is it my wife? © 2019 R. S. Morris |
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Added on February 11, 2019 Last Updated on February 23, 2019 Author
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