She slept in the bed
while he slept on the couch
so he could hear their sick daughter
and her three-day-old cough.
And in the morning
while she moved around the kitchen
and the kids watched too-loud TV
and coughed a little more,
he crept back into the bed,
curled up in the body warmth
she’d left behind
and they slept together
separated
only by time.
get a throat culture — can’t be too careful.
touching and poignant. like the mood.
“Don’t stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed.”
—George Burns (1896 – 1996)
“Fal. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; ’tis a point of friendship.
Prince. Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell.
Fal. I would it were BED-TIME, Hal, and all well.
Prince. Why, thou owest God a death.”
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616), King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.
“What’s money? A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do.”
—Bob Dylan (1941 – ), who, I should add, also produces wine
Damn, man–you’re gonna make it hard for me to maintain my cynical, sarcastic attitude if you start running poems with the bittersweetness of romance.
I so get it. In our home, she handles most of it–the colds and ow-ees–and I handle anything that includes throwing up. She’s an insomniac and I’m dead to the world but have to get up at 5, so she often creeps into bed as I’m leaving. So we are often separated by time.
Thank you!
get a throat culture — can’t be too careful.
touching and poignant. like the mood.
“Don’t stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed.”
—George Burns (1896 – 1996)
“Fal. Hal, if thou see me down in the battle, and bestride me, so; ’tis a point of friendship.
Prince. Nothing but a colossus can do thee that friendship. Say thy prayers, and farewell.
Fal. I would it were BED-TIME, Hal, and all well.
Prince. Why, thou owest God a death.”
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616), King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.
“What’s money? A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do.”
—Bob Dylan (1941 – ), who, I should add, also produces wine
Damn, man–you’re gonna make it hard for me to maintain my cynical, sarcastic attitude if you start running poems with the bittersweetness of romance.
I so get it. In our home, she handles most of it–the colds and ow-ees–and I handle anything that includes throwing up. She’s an insomniac and I’m dead to the world but have to get up at 5, so she often creeps into bed as I’m leaving. So we are often separated by time.
Thank you!