On Tuesdays
On Tuesdays Max visited
A dame a few blocks
Away with the mutt that
Seemed to bark all day.
He went because he liked
The way she made coffee
And always offered him
Toast or cake and because
She was blind and had the
Most useless mutt for the
Blind in the whole world.
On Tuesdays she opened
Her door to him; let him
In to her world and made
Him coffee and offered him
Toast or cake and listened as
He spoke and told her jokes
And related the latest gossip.
On Tuesdays he listened as
She spoke of her youth, of her
Days of being a beauty, of the
Day she lost her sight, how she
Coped in her world of darkness.
On Tuesdays he took her for a
Walk to a local restaurant and
They dined and ate and drank
And she listened to the people
Talking around her and to Max
Who recited a new poem he’d
Written or she just sat listening
To the traffic pass by wondering
If there were white puffy clouds
Above and what the colour the sky.
On Tuesdays Max walked her home
After lunch and they undressed and
Had sex and smoked and lay on the
Bed, he gazing at her beauty and she
Glad to be living and stroking his head.
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
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