The Marbled Sigh

An Old Fool

Standing there beside his parked car
A sedate gray car but proud
Standing—planted—arms crossed over
A black leather jacket
That he bought half-price
Years ago when he still could walk
The wind flutters his sparse white hairs
Also my gauzy dress
As I come toward him. He’s smiling
To see how good I look today—
As good as he’s imagined
For hours, so his smile keeps on growing
‘From ear to ear,’ they’d say—they who are
Amused by the transparency
Of an old man’s heart.

Planted, I say, cross-armed beside his car
In full forgetfulness of his absurdity
—or mine!
Watching me approach high-heeled across
This windy parking lot
Like, just like, the dream of a young
Blood, and ‘wow’ he says
From one ear to the other.
‘Wow?’ Wow what, that we
Are who we say we are
Precisely

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Kajsa Ohman is on the verge of turning 85 and thinks it’s high time she published something. She used to live in a log cabin in the Montana mountains, but now she lives in Seattle, an experience which has spawned these 3 poems. Thank you for being their first readers.