Antimacassar—Crocheted doilies placed on sofa arm rests to
prevent men from smearing mustache wax and hair oil.
When I first lifted my beautiful bride
across the doorstep to bless the luck we did not need,
I thought of her pretty knee
as it held her garter I filched off
and threw toward a gaggle of hopefuls.
I did not think, why would I,
of the knee replacement in our 70's
we endured, she with pain,
me with patience.
Tonight we walked our dog,
as my wife caned her way around
one long block for the first time,
a triumph of sorts.
"We've got to change that light bulb,” she said.
“Yes,”I agreed, “and put the lid on the seed can;
the squirrels are spreading them all over the garage.”
In the past, couples sat on their once plush,
arm-worn sofa chairs, waiting out dusk.
She said:” Arnold, please straighten the antimacassar.”
“Okay, Agnes, is that smooth enough?”
She nodded once, after a silence.
Originally published in The Point Press