AFTER THE HONEYMOON

With blazing eyes and open mouth, she hails,
Your socks are on the floor again.

"Get on the bed," he thinks, looking at her
pretty mouth, ignoring her words.

In the morning she strides outside, flings
socks in the trash with a flourish

as the neighbor smiles
wishing he were younger

while his wife, unclips
limp underwear to

drop
into a basket


-

Judith Pordon


Published in Impetus #6

Impetus
Implosion Press
Cheryl A Townsend/Editor
4975 Comanche Trail
Stow, Oh 44224-1217


Impetus@aol.com