A day of long meetings,hours gazing into computer screens,competitive offices and tense meetings,projects with deadlines, orquotas needing to be filled.They came from soccer practice,from the field and its gloryor the parking lot,where the August sun drains the life out ofmoms in minivans.She came from a lonely home,from an easy chair that sitsin front of a droning television,next to an end table with an empty coffee cup,and a phone that never rings.They came from homework,chapters underlined and blanks filled in,some of them right, some of them wrong,some left undone,waiting to be turned in for approval.He came from the worst fight,(or at least it feels that way),that he’s ever had with his wife.Tomorrow’s might be worse,might be the one that ends it all.And here they all are, together.Though they are alsoin those places, still.
They Came From
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8 responses to “They Came From”
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Good thoughts Steven.
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Thanks, Shane!
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Good thoughts Steven.
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Thanks, Shane!
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I like it. . .keep the poetry coming!
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I like it. . .keep the poetry coming!
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Strange, but I like. Your cousin Belinda writes songs and you two have a similar touch. Might also note that mother wrote poetry back in her very younger days. When she was about your age, so I’ve been told. She also wenr on to play church softball even as she was some older. We’re coming up really soon to see some soccer. Looking forward ton seeing you Sunday for showchoir. Keep up the good thoughts, love you, DAD
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Strange, but I like. Your cousin Belinda writes songs and you two have a similar touch. Might also note that mother wrote poetry back in her very younger days. When she was about your age, so I’ve been told. She also wenr on to play church softball even as she was some older. We’re coming up really soon to see some soccer. Looking forward ton seeing you Sunday for showchoir. Keep up the good thoughts, love you, DAD
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Steven Hovater 
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