The Traveling Wife

You’ll think me pathetic, but I wrote with tongue in cheek — while biting down on it.

Yes, this Cloudburst poem comes from a husband whose wife has been away for a week and a half, with an equivalent stretch of time still to go.

Only seven lines this one (so no stanza to share online this time), but with full pentameter and a rhyme scheme of ABCBCBA.

The winter cold (in the 50s and 60s, dips down in the 40s) together with damp and rainy weather doesn’t make for a good time to spend by oneself — after the first days I’d already read the novels I brought from the U.S.

At night, I’m pratically living off pizza and granola. Bananas for breakfast.

I told her we’d not do this again. 🙂

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