Empty Bottles

A wife leaves her alcoholic husband.

She waited by the beige fence,
Under the shady tree, staring
Into the horizon.
Searching, waiting, wanting
For life to come
Pick her up.
A lone girl on the road,
Suitcase at her feet.
Cars passed and no one
Knew her story.
Why she was here,
What happened, or what
She wanted.
She wouldn't tell them.
No, not a word about
The crashes, the thrashes,
The thundering of her home.
The high and low frequencies,
Of radio waves,
Mixed with human tears
And tired sighs.
No more of the unfaltering,
Desperate cries.
The ripples of hot screams
Splicing
The air,
No more shattered glass
And bloody hands.
No more
Of the empty
Green bottles scattered
Around the living room,
An unconscious man
Whom
She once loved, on the couch.
So
She raises her thumb,
From the hand
Which once
Contained
Her
Wedding
Ring.

Author's Note

School assignment to write a narrative poem.