Time Love and Tenderness

Several years after the death of her sweetheart,
Eula woke up.
Woke up, not like after sleeping for eight hours,
but really woke up.

1991 and she had been asleep since 1967,
not technically asleep but not really awake until now.
Leaving her house only on special occasions – graduation, weddings, and holiday’s.

The fog had lifted
with it her spirits.

Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.

Surviving on toast and black coffee from her electric percolator.

Sleep.
Sleep.
Sleep.

And then – one day

AWAKE!

They wanted her to wake up for so long and wakeup she did.

Out came the fancy dresses and shoes.
Unearthed were the ‘good’ hose and girdles.
Unpacked were the hairpieces and jewelry.

The drive took over an hour.
She was always driven.
Got married at 15
no need to drive for herself.

Saxophone echoed in her ears
Eula swayed in her seat – waiting.
She was with her girls
the content looks on their faces
matched their body language.

She let out a sigh.
She was awake.
All so she could meet Michael Bolton.

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Wax me some poetic love {or criticism I promise I can take it like a big kid}:

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