Saturday, May 21, 2022

Narrative Poem: The Red Apron Man.

 

The man in the red apron followed

me home from the thrift store.

He came right through my front

door after me.

"What do you want?" I asked him.

"I want to be loved and cared for"

he said simply.

His answer moved me intensely.

Because that's all I've ever wanted, too.

"Sit down and I'll feed you" I told him.

I brought him leftover chickpea salad 

and a hunk of buttered Irish soda bread.

Then he lay in front of the fireplace

and went to sleep.

I covered him with an old blanket.

Then sat in my recliner and began to think.

I was soon asleep as well.

When I woke up he was gone.

My silver ashtray was gone.

And the glass candy dish,

with Skittles in it. Gone.

Back at the thrift store they

didn't know where my red apron

man was. 

He lived on the street, they said.

He only worked there part-time,

on weekends. They said his name is

Rudy. But I call him my Red Apron Man.

I know he'll come back. He has to.

He left his red apron in my laundry hamper.

 

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