Lost and Useless - by Michael Estabrook

Lost and Useless

Propped up on pillows doing her SODUKO puzzle,
my wife rests in bed across our room
in the Rookwood Inn, waking up,
sipping the coffee I brought her from downstairs.

I’m watching her silently mouthing numbers
as she works her puzzle, her white nightshirt
hanging loosely around her lush and sumptuous chest,
rising up and down rhythmically with her breathing.

And I wonder what I wonder every single day of my life –
how did I ever get such a woman,
how did I manage to make her mine?
She stirs and my heart stirs,
she looks over at me, she speaks
and each of her precious words
soaks immediately like water
in a dry desert riverbed into my soul.

Then she slips out of bed and strolls across the room,
her nightshirt flowing like her wedding dress
once flowed, stilling the air,
silencing the room,
taking my breath away as I see
that beautiful 18 year old girl again
I fell in love with all those years ago,
and I am lost and useless for the rest of the day.