Tuesday Morning by George Longenecker

Tuesday Morning

repeats itself
day turns from bright dawn
to paler shades of blue
your face turns grey
perhaps you hear our voices
brothers, daughter, lover, poet, nurse
all here
11:22 exactly
but in reality
it’s a slow fading of light
and breath
perhaps voices, perhaps a dream
something past
from the bridge you look out at water
Winooski River grey
ice chunks against a dam
brick mill buildings
hum of your bicycle tires on a street
Tuesday morning repeats itself
birds outside a screen porch
singing the same songs
over and over
songs fade to grey

for George Mathon 1945-2017

by George Longenecker

Editor’s Note: The aching grief in this poem is emphasized by the repetition. We will all experience this day eventually.