Wax and Sand
Once again he is introspective
just in time for the holidays,
his nature avoids the manic bustle.
These days he will drive out of his way
to avoid the happy-go-lucky places,
places with smiles, laughter, and music.
There was a time not too long ago
when he was filled with desire,
even before the cataclysmic affair.
He loved his wife and his life
or so he thought until a clash—
some blown fuse changed his circuitry.
Forlorn, he makes himself a new heart
hewn from wax and sand,
which he would eat if he could but find a fork.
Brenda Bishop Blakey