Adam and Eve
Like the postmen of my youth, they walk
to Mass each day, fearless of the weather.
He bent forward, his hands clasped behind his back,
a few white hairs blowing over his freckled pate.
she a step behind, limping a little
in her thick-soled tan leather shoes,
sandy hair coloring her only touch of vanity.
They sit in the back, holding hands
during the Our Father,
kiss on the lips at the sign of peace,
and greet those nearby in sprightly voices.
my wife would have called them cute.
Perhaps we would have grown to be like them
if cancer had not torn us apart
leaving me lonely,
and sometimes, with envious tears.
Bill Kenney is an engineer. Perhaps that's why the Fib format fascinated him. He has published two
detective novels (Victims of the Past and A very special Election). A few short stories and several
poems of his have been published in various journals..
He is a widower; the father of nine and lives in New Jersey. These days he's working on a memoir, and spends one day a week hitting golf balls into the nearest water hazard.