Sunday Visit

Teodoro S Gruhl

Sunday Visit 

up a long flight of stairs

climbing -  longing

to turn and run down

before they reached

the door - instead in

Sunday finery marching

each step too high 
for small legs pushed ahead - 
offerings to seal any rift, 
sustainers of  sight 
in the absence of light

in those flat near dead eyes

that sat right behind that

peeled-paint door - waiting

to stutter step–the beginning

of long talk in that small sour

scented room in a language that

bone-boring-baffles –  

Until flat dull eyed woman - rises

from her threadbare armchair

at the window moving toward

them, slowly, like a rickety

cart rattling with dry bones -

and they, good children, do

not cringe as she opens her

dry lips and vomits hot breath 

over them - delivering

 the wretched requisite kiss 

of their sweet release

Visit over ...

until

next

week

~






The Sunday Whirl