The Widower, The Police & 2 Lesbians by John D Robinson

A widower now for
nearly 2 years;
he is 80 years old
and is dying of cancer
like his wife
died of cancer and
he tells me that he
is ‘the fittest
unhealthiest man
he knows’ and that
he eats microwave
meals but if ‘they
take longer than 4
minutes to cook ‘I
don’t bother because
I don’t know how long
I’ve got left’
and I have known and
loved him for more than
30 years and he is
twice as sharp and
funny as any guy a
quarter of his age
and the sun is going
down and soon she’ll
be hidden by strangling
clouds and I know that
I’ll never see him again;
and he tells me of the
2 lesbians that tend to
his garden and sometimes
they cook him fresh
lunches and today; Christmas
Eve; he tells me how
2 uniformed police
officers called on him
earlier and gave him some
cash;
a few weeks back his car,
which was in the care of his
daughter that day; lost a
wing-mirror in a hit and
run incident; the offender
had come clean and had
offered some cash as way
of apology; which he
gladly accepted and no
charges pursued; everyone
was a winner;
a delivery of cash from
the police doesn’t happen
everyday and speaking
to someone as big hearted,
charismatic,
witty and intelligent as this
widower
doesn’t happen every day;
I am blessed
and the sun is going down
strangled by the clouds
as we watch
helplessly
knowing the sun
won’t rise again
for some of us.

John D Robinson
John D Robinson is a published poet; ‘When You Hear The Bell, There’s Nowhere To Hide’ (Holy&intoxicated Publications 2016) Cowboy Hats & Railways’ (Scars Publications 2016); a contributor to the 2016 48th Street Press Broadside Series; his work appears widely in the small press and online literary online journals including Rusty Truck; Red Fez; Outlaw Poetry; Degenerate Literature; Haggard & Halloo; Beatnik Cowboy; Boyslut; Anti Heroin Chic; In Between Hangovers; Your One Phone Call; he is married and lives in the UK with his wife, a dog 3 cats and swallows copious amounts of wine.
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