She was a tough as nails with her Maine accent
and I became attached to her raspy voice
and that New England twang.
I never told her she was beautiful
and I don't think she cared.
She just wanted someone to talk to
and we would go on into the night
back and fourth talking about anything
from dreams to stars, even a dirty joke or two.
Gail was not a small woman but was well shaped
with a body that showed it was not afraid of work.
Thin brown hair dangled off her shoulders
and her green eyes were like embers.
She never wore make up and she did not need to.
The days were dark in our lives.
I had been between jobs
and love had up and left
the third time for each of us.
I had reduced myself to a bar junkie
and a bar room brawler on Friday nights
as I pursued my own secret death wish.
Gail's ex- husband walked the streets
and sometimes came home to steal money
out of her purse to buy crank or heroin.
One night I found myself in a ditch
glass mixed in with the blood on my head,
I could not remember my way home
and stumbled alone in the dark.
I woke up that morning in her yard
smelling hot cakes fresh off the griddle
and thinking what it would be like
to be in love again and sober.
She watched over me for three days
and forced me to sleep in her bed.
I remember when she would come in
how she curled up next to me.
Would touch my cheek softly
with leather hands as soft as velvet.
I never made love to her those three days
but wallowed deep in her strength
and regained hope from her love.
Why we never took it farther
is beyond me. She was there
when I needed her with the patience
and strength when I needed it the most.
Sometimes a woman's power
is when she needs to be needed.
Honorable mention
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