Frances -- A Poem

The room is full.
She's waving at me.
Daddy sees someone else
He'd like to speak to.
Two chairs lean against a table. One for me.
Not one I'd choose.
I can't speak to anyone until I've spoken to her
Thanked her for saving our seats.
"Where's Gene?" Daddy asks.
She says,
"He told me to find my own way home."
She doesn't need a way home.
She needs a husband who cares.
Who thinks she's got something to say
She needs him to listen to her speak
Just speak.
Listen to her speak.
I drive her home.
I say,"The sky is gray."
She sees yellow flowers in the median
She doesn't know what they are.
I don't know what they are.
So practiced in silence,
She says nothing more.
I drive her home.
"Thank you," she says.
"Have a good weekend," I say.

I watch until she passes from sight,
She passes from sight.