slowly, john has drifted
he still loves her
solid, solid love,
but he has drifted
drifted slowly out to his garage
drifted out there and built
a retreat, slow and steady
fifty years of beer fridges and tools
filled every drawer with nuts,
bolts, nails and screws
projects and motors
rebuilt and ready
a t.v. a radio
hockey night in canada
talk radio always on
he's drifted out here
a den of rust and oil
sure he's drifted
but he loves her
Beautifully written - a man-cave, a retreat, but he loves her. Wonderful, Ollie!
ReplyDeleteI never read a love poem like this. Awesome, Old Ollie.
ReplyDeleteOllie, this is the case with many a football widow. I should know. Thanks for this.
ReplyDeletePamela
Old Ollie,
ReplyDeleteI think this is a rather steadfast love.
Space to be individual, while together.
I enjoyed reading your poem!
Best wishes,
Eileen
I can smell this place, the oil and the dust - a haven indeed for John..enjoyed it very much...bkm
ReplyDeleteYour poem definitely captures long lasting love even though there sometimes be, sadly, the mental drift
ReplyDeleteThis is sad and wonderful! It reminds me of someone I know, older neighbor. His wife is sick and he is drifting! I really loved this one~
ReplyDeleteOld Ollie i love this and it is something that happens to many a man...they have a retreat in the garage...:-)
ReplyDeleteThe idea of drift, not intentional retreat seems real. She has probably drifted too into sewing room, study, recipe files, friendships - and also loves him still
ReplyDelete