We joke about me leaving.
Leaving before you. Not the
slam the door leaving—no,
the two days in the hospital
we couldn’t do anymore leaving.
We joke about time bombs,
discoveries that hook your
heart into the past. A wallet photo
of an unknown woman, an old
We joke about who loves
who the most. It’s not funny.
When you are hungry for me
go to the icebox. Inside is dark.
Open the door, I’ll be in the light.
Robert Halleck is a retired banker who has been writing poetry for over 50 years. He lives in Del Mar, CA with his muse Della Janis. His recent poems have appeared in The San Diego Poetry Annual, Third Wednesday, The Patterson Review, and Chiron. This summer he will be attending the Kenyon Writers Workshop for the second year.