My wife relaxes in her recliner

eating her breakfast ,

egg salad on rye toast

and sipping her virgin Bloody Mary,

watching the birds fly

to the suet and seed feeding zone

i created just off our back porch.

I sit at the breakfast nook

cramming my Cherieos-bananas-blue and straw berry breakfast

down my throat,

thinking about my day ahead…

The play I am directing

at our local community theater,

CHEAPER BY THE DOZEN,

opens tonight.

(I love this play.

Father is my role model).

The actors are ready,

I think.

AND

I have to get to the town library today

to return

Niall Ferguson’s

THE WAR OF THE WORLD

(Twentieth Century Conflict

and The Decent of The West)

I’ve finished only half of it,

but it’s due.

AND

I have to buy a Topper Ware bin

at Ace Hardware for recyclables

so I can start another project

to save the world.

AND

I have to get to the gym

for a quickie workout

so I can calm down before

I drive to the theatre.

(The call is 6:30)

AND

Between mouthfuls of breakfast

I think to ask Nancy

if she’s taken the vitamins I sorted for her

into the 7-day-pill-planner

I bought for her on her last birthday.

(There are only 6 today since it’s Friday)

BUT

I stop short of asking her.

In the minuscule corner of my brain

where a dollop of wisdom abides,

I see her staring at me,

for a long, quiet moment…..

(Thank the gods she loves me

though I can never fathom why)…

For if she didn’t, she would whisper,

softly and with a smile,

“Fuck-off, Dear.”

I don’t ask her about the vitamins.

30 years of

“…till death do us part…”

has taught me at least, that much.

Instead, I jot a reminder to myself on my note pad,

“RENEW AND FINISH

THE WAR OF THE WORLD”