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Leah’s Voice

“It’s me; Leah. I hit that darn wrong button,
and now I lost the picture—again.
Can you come and fix it, dear?”

“Okay, no sweat; and if I can’t,
l’ll stand in front of the TV screen
and talk to you…
naw, just joking, ha ha ha….”

She repeats herself in a thousand words:
“I hit the darn wrong button again….”

So I push a few, for the second time this day,
and the evangelist reappears; she perceives
him as shadow. She certainly can’t see
the toll-free number.
Oh! how she loves the ministry.

Eighty-three and nearly blind, there’s
not too much for her to do;
but she spurs her rocking chair into
a lope—or canter, when one rides
English or dressage.

With the carelessness of the very old,
sitting in her rocker, she displays
her fence-netted swollen columns—
those blue varicose-veined legs.

Once they were clad in English
riding breeches and boots. I glance
at the photo of the lovely woman
accepting her trophy, then adjust
the volume for her . . . .
“There you go, Leah; all set.”
Her mind is on the conjurer;
he retells bible stories that I don’t recall.
But he fascinates me, for he contorts
his face, gesticulates constantly, stalks
stiffly back and forth—like an animated target
at the carnival’s shooting gallery. I feel myself
falling under his spell . . . .

“Okay, take it easy, Leah; just call me.
From outside, I hear the shouting voice:
The Kiiiiiingdom of Heeeaven…!”

That was two weeks ago. Remembering
her, I like to think she reached her destination.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
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Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

certainly worth telling. You noticed the person she used to be and accepted who she had become. I notice that you tell the story in the past tense. Has she passed away? A neighbor? I felt drawn to the everyday circumstance and the telling. Very well done. ~Geez.
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Our Chatroom is open 24/7 Feel free to use it for
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thank you for reading and commenting. Yeah, Leah and I were good friends; my wife and I looked after her till her death nearly a year ago. I stopped her from sending the rest of her money to that leech. "You cannot buy your way into the Kingdom of Heaven," I told her. There's more to this story, of course. Maybe more some other time . . . .
Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment

a great story, by a compassionate man. I will be more than willing to hear some more about Leah. you and your wife are to be commended for looking after your neighbor. I am sure that she apprecated your kindness. ~ Geez.
.

Our Chatroom is open 24/7 Feel free to use it for
keeping in touch We have poets around the world and it is fun
to have real-time conversations with those that are up
all night or on the other side of the world.
.

and thanks for wanting to hear more about Leah. It shall be forthcoming, soon. It's always sad to see a person living alone--although by choice, in her case. I'm glad I had the foresight to marry a younger woman, lol. Okay, on with my day's chores, but many thanks. Jerry

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>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment

its amazing how you mesmerize, with such simple, everyday things. Needless to say, I like it.

T

The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

your pen name sounds familiar; have we met before? Well, probably not, but it's a pleasure having you here on this site.
Thanks for your interest in my story about Leah. Stay well, my friend. Regards, Jerry

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>
>Please visit my website: www.jerrykspoetry.com

author comment
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