Drifting in and out
of sleep in my reading chair,
I glimpse bits of you.
Once a yellow check
appeared with your signature.
You’d use a thick black
Sharpie (you were half
blind by then). You loved to help
with the rent when you
could. You loved signing
the name you chose as a child.
It blurred in my tears.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Author: Tom D'Evelyn
Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at tom.develyn@comcast.net. D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at http://tdevelyn.com and other sites.
View all posts by Tom D'Evelyn
Metaxyturn Diaries 