shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Bill Kenney


Adam and Eve

Like the postmen of my youth, they walk
to Mass each day, fearless of the weather.
He bent forward, his hands clasped behind his back,
a few white hairs blowing over his freckled pate.
she a step behind, limping a little
in her thick-soled tan leather shoes,
sandy hair coloring her only touch of vanity.

They sit in the back, holding hands
during the Our Father,
kiss on the lips at the sign of peace,
and greet those nearby in sprightly voices.

my wife would have called them cute.
Perhaps we would have grown to be like them
if cancer had not torn us apart
leaving me lonely,
and sometimes, with envious tears.