His Sunday best

For the Sunday Whirl wordle:

Many called him vain when he was a younger man,
broad of shoulder, always dressed to the nines,
tie in a perfect knot, shirts starched crisp, shoes shined.
Truth was, she liked him in his suits. He did it for her.
Today, he looked much like many other old men,
surface of his skin dotted with marks of age,
yet still dressing with care every day;
younger men think it a spectacle, he does it for her.
Early each morning finds him kneeling at the alter,
stopping to contemplate life, death and what comes after;
his minds eye watching again the film of his life –
it stops always, when he watched her reel and fall.
He would allow no tears once he left the chapel,
Sorrow he would keep in the depth of his heart,
Forcing it dormant and willing a smile. He does it for her.
Today, like every other day, he will arrive at nine,
Sit by her side, hold her hand, stroke her hair, and
wait patiently, reluctantly, for her life’s resolution.
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8 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

8 responses to “His Sunday best

  1. That kind of devotion is rare. Beautiful story, told with great sensitivity. “He does it for her” … so sad yet arousing our respect.

  2. This is so beautiful. You know it made me remember? The Pixar movie “Up.” As I was reading I pictured the old man looking like that old man from the cartoon, Spenser Tracy type sort of. A touching and beautiful poem.

  3. This is very touching and heartfelt… how sweet love like that is.

  4. OMG! So sad, wistful, beautiful, and loving. You’ve mastered the art of story-telling in poetry.

  5. I love the repeat of “he does it for her” – a lovely use of the wordle words.

  6. Loving devotion ’til death do us part…you’ve captured it here with poignant beauty.

  7. sad and poignant. Terrible sad to watch a love one slip away

  8. There’s a beautiful song titled “Walking Her Home” that tells the story of an elderly man staying with his wife in her final hours. It brings me to tears every time I hear it, and your poem evokes the same emotional response. Wonderful write.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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