R.A. Allen

Compos Mentis
for Mrs. Stephanie Jacksovitch Hall

  I dreamed I smelled rain
 coming, but it was only wind
 blowing through cracks unmended
 since last we’d mentioned them.

 I thought I heard you on the porch
 returning from our garden—a
 diversion acquired
 as time on our hands
 slipped away.
 But it must have been the cat.
 Or did we have a dog
 back then?

 Laughing, naked,
 I chase you down the hall,
 and, laughing, you prove too swift.
 With vexation and the same
 jaded lecture, they lead me
 back to my room and
 dress me.

 Someday soon, I’ll escape
 this place and find you,
 bequeathing the next newly decrepit
 one bed and one TV
 with foil-wrapped rabbit ears.

 R.A. Allen © 2009