Up in the morning at five
to take a two hour drive
for surgery of a member
on a cold day in December.
When surgery at last was through
grabbed a burger and fries at two.
Hurried back to his town
trying to hold back a frown
and entered the meeting at eight
only thirty minutes late
for a meeting just under way
though they paused to ask him to pray.
It drug on for over two hours
before he got to the showers
a man who smiled like a geek
said, “It nice you work one hour a week.”
Later he slept in his chair
with a stack of books piled there
which he’ll try to read tomorrow
and overcome his deep sorrow
for missing his child’s first ball game
for which he shouldered the blame.
At the child’s room he stopped to peek
remembering his one hour a week.
He awoke to hear his wife say,
“another one hour a week day.”
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Newfie Hugs, Rose
Georg
Be always safe,
Karen
Very beautiful poem wuth rhiming and tempo as I like.
Just one suggestion though - make spaces between paragraphs - it makes reading easier.
Jack