Poem: They Did It

Broken heart
By Dave Hood

They met, by accident,
idealistic teenagers at a bar.
Conversed about their studies,
danced lustfully to disco,
songs like Donna Summer’s
“Love to Love You Baby.”

Later, three dates later,
after dinner and a movie,
in the Volkswagen
they French necked,
embraced as lovers,
then “did it”
awkwardly.

For the first year, they often
“did it”
passionately,
in the lake—skinny dipping,
in her bedroom, in the shower,
in her parent’s home, on the couch
while they slept.

They “did it” on their honeymoon,
in a five star hotel,
like Hollywood lovers,
then three times a week,
like a normal couple,
for the first year of marriage.

They “did it” until the birth
of the baby.
Another accident. And then another
in the heat of passion.
Then she lost her desire.
Stress and responsibility
distracting, burdening.
She said, “I have no time.”

She focused on taking care
of the babies, then children,
driving them to the hockey rink,
watching them play baseball,
kicking a soccer ball,
attending piano lessons…
She joined yoga, enrolled in courses
at university,
studied late in to the evening.

He disengaged, worked on building
a stable career,
as a sales rep, obtaining promotions,
acquiring material comforts,
achieving salary increases,
travelling to meetings,
playing golf with my buddies.

They drifted, rarely “did it.”
descended into estrangement.
Then roommates— sleeping in
different bedrooms.

Now, they’re separated-unable to carry on
a civil conversation.
She’s still living in the matrimonial home
with all the comforts, and responsibilities
of caring for children.
He’s sleeping alone, in sparsely furnished condo,
still paying all the bills.

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About Dave Hood

Lover of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction. Professional photographer and writer. Without the arts, life would be rather mundane, like a walk down the same old path on a dull day.
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