Because I Did Not See
BECAUSE I DID NOT SEE
By Deirdre Hennings
On sait connu les Café Des Trois Colombes
au rendezvous des amours sans abris…
We know the Café of the Three Doves
The rendezvous of lovers without refuge…
Joe Dassin’s lyrical melody washes over me
recalling our joyous summer in Montreal,
compelling my limbs to
lift and linger in the evening air
dancing for him as I used to
warm and sweet, sensual and smiling.
We kiss tenderly
before I paddle off to make toast.
But before I sense anything
he barks that it’s burning.
I pop up the bread—
untoasted, I see nothing amiss—but it’s too late.
His over-chemo’d body slumps
as he holds his stomach,
pain clouding his face.
“Why do you always do this?” he cries.
But I did nothing
except fail to notice an errant
drip of soup waiting on the toaster top to burn.
Now he is nauseous again and the evening is ruined
because I did not anticipate
because I did not see.