the candles were unlit,
white with melted wax
clinging to the sides of the pewter holders;
electricity and gas had been turned off
nigh six months ago
when he also shut down his phone,
stowing it in a box in the garage;
he had lost track of time
this late evening,
sitting in the rocking chair,
slowly rocking like the ticking of a clock
as the embers in the fire
glowed in the cold dark of the room:

he was fine.

no one had visited in quite a while,
nor had he visited anyone,
nor had anyone called
in the same period of time;

he was fine with that, too,

as no one listened to him
he knew what they would say

he was fine.

he had put the dog down
‘bout the time he turned off the utilities;
the cold did not require
him to tend to the yard;
he used the toe of his left boot
to nudge the ember that had
fallen off the fire onto the hearth
back into the fire place proper;
he rocked more slowly,
nodded off.

he was fine.

he was absolutely fine.

4 thoughts on “fine

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *