POETRY

After Hearing the News

A poem about coping

After hearing the news he will wipe his tears away, he will walk out of this office, out of this hall, out of this building, climb into the oven-baked warmth of his vehicle and roll the windows down, turn the rock n roll up so the bass drum rattles the loose CD’s stashed in the door, while driving fast enough that the wind ripping through his hair brings back memories of summer days in cars without air conditioning. He will not cry again, will not tell a soul what the man in the white lab coat read from the sheet of paper in the plastic clip board, but will go home and hug his wife, will let his cat curl into his lap and purr while the television blares out background noise for comfort. He’ll make plans to visit family, to visit friends, some near, some forgotten, to see concerts of bands he has always wanted to see, but never had the time. He’ll marvel at just how healthy he feels. He’ll lie down to sleep, in sheets crowded with scents of nights before this one, each one seeming new, and he will wait for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.