Cemetery Parking Lot
the space near the front
door - near push
carts - near blue
light specials - near a
lady from the salvation
army, ringing a bell -
swinging a red bucket,
half smiling, tilting
her hat - half smiling -
near double doors -
at the front entrance to
K-Mart...
I want to wait inside
our car - where a
cemetery surrounds
the hospital on the hill,
behind garbage bins -
near employee parking
where you can smoke.
I want to wait inside
the car while you
purchase paper towels,
toilet paper, garbage
bags, soap, and fabric
softener.
I wait in the car play
with the crank out window,
slip my fingers over
the steering wheel -
feel where a horn plays
music, feel a knob
which turns on wind shield
wipers - a knob -
to twist for headlights -
I wait in the car - remove
my shoes, toes touch a
brown - thicker - carpet
you replaced after you
spilled paint from a
hardware store.
I wait inside the car -
blow on windows draw
stick figures on glass -
blow on windows draw
houses, balloons and
cats.
I wait inside the car,
cover my legs with your
old navy blanket, rest
my head on a padded
arm rest - close my
eyes....
And, I wait inside the
car - falling asleep -
listening to a bell held
by a half smiling lady
near double doors -
opposite the cemetery
where you were laid
to rest.
Nancy Duci Denofio
from book "What Brought You Here?"
published by Dystenium 2010
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