Coma – such a small word.
Able to steal your life away
in an instant that lasts an eternity…
But, a soldier can’t look back.
Looking up at me from the dimly lit corner booth,
a face, applied with little care and less thought;
showing none of the glamour, but all of the glitter
of an irreclaimable past.
“Buy me a drink” I heard her say,
“and I’ll tell you a story or two.”
And having nothing better to do,
I sat and I bought.
As I listened, her life unfolded
in slow short bursts.
“I was big, don’t you know…
on the stage; though not of late.
My Love had fallen in Normandy.
A telegram was sent with regret.
That day I, too, started my descent.
A tree wintered, I cared no longer.”
There was a familiar tone to her voice,
And the way she held her head
Caused me to look into her eyes.
“Penny”, I said, “I missed you too.”
Raymond K. Olson © 2004
