Traveling Salesman

He had been driving for hours,
Dropping off cards,
Making introductions
When he saw her

In the sunlight
Rocking slowly
On her porch
Of her weathered farmhouse

He drove past but
Something pulled him back
And he stopped
Something stopped him.

 He got out
Closed the door
Shakily, timidly walking towards her.
He stood at the bottom of the steps.

“I am sorry to disturb you,
But this is the life
I wish I had.
May I sit down next to you?”

She was not frightened
She was not afraid.
She wasn't much of anything.
“Sure,” was all she said.

He sat down and looked at the road
The swing hanging from the big tree in the front yard
The clothes on the line, puffing up with the spring breeze,
Like the sails on a boat in the bay.

She looked at him but did not say a word.
There were tears in his eyes
He stood up, got into his car
And then he was gone.ur paragraph here.

I Am Vincent - Excerpts 2

Sweet Sleep

 You used to say “Sweet Sleep” to me.
Whenever we hung up the phone from our last talk of the night,
When we closed our eyes,
When we kissed goodbye.

Your mother would say it to you,
When she tucked you in.
You say it to your son,
After his last bedtime story.

I knew the story.
I knew its background.
And I felt happy to be in your inner circle.

But then one day,
I wasn’t in that circle anymore.
You just said goodnight.
Goodnight, what a terrible, lonely word.

I felt as though I was on a stormy sea,
Without a lifeboat,
Without a life preserver,
Tossed about in the cold dark waters,
Not being able to breathe.

 And in that moment of absence,
We were over.
No fights.
No explanations.
Just “Goodnight.”