It Always Sounds Like This

It always sounds like this

He’s trying to make the day go by

And pretty soon

It’s—

Bong, bong, bong

Gotta go

Gotta go pray

Gotta go sit

And notice

The petals

Falling off the flowers

Or something like that

Then it’s silence

And I get the cooking done

Come up two miles from town

Don’t say anything to anybody

Just get to my work

My work is the cooking

And stocking the pantry

Making sure they have their canned pears

They go through ‘em like you can’t believe

Never knew monks or whatever they are

Liked pears

But believe me, they do

And the one I always see

He always looks bored

Always looks like

He’s just trying to get through the morning

Or the afternoon

Same as the rest of us

We don’t talk, obviously

I can’t talk to him

And he can’t talk to me

But we catch each other’s eye

Here and there

And then we go back

To whatever it is we’re doing

But I sense a restlessness in him

I sense a discomfort

I stir the soup for lunch

And from the window

I can see him out there

Practicing these moves

I don’t know what they are

Kinda look like karate

And kinda look like a dance

But there’s no music here

There’s no sound at all

Except for the bong bong bong

When it’s time to pray

And what you learn

Pretty quick around here

Is that the time to pray
Is always

They divide up the time

For other things

Like reading

And gardening

But really

All of it

Is supposed to be

Prayer

I don’t pray myself

Not that I have anything against it

I just don’t like

Harping on my own thoughts

For too long

Seems like a waste of time

One night I left here late

Because I found mouse droppings in the pantry

And I had to clear the whole thing out

And see what could be salvaged and what couldn’t

By the time I left

It was pouring rain

And on the way out

This big hole in the road

Caught my tire

And popped it

Pretty soon

All the men from the house

Came running

They must have seen my headlights stuck

Or something

But pretty soon

They were all lifting up the car

One changed the tire

And the other held up an umbrella for me

While we stood off to the side

I felt embarrassed

Having that many people

Fuss over me

Especially people

You’re not allowed to thank

When they do nice things for you

I decided I had to break the rule just once

So when they were all done

And soaking wet

Before they headed back to the house

I yelled—

Thank you!

Most of them just smiled

And kept walking away

But the one man

The one I see all the time

He stopped and took my hands in his

And we just looked at each for a little while

Right there in the rain

Nothing romantic about it

I don’t mean that

Just two people

Wishing they could say something

And not able

To say it