first day back home
he sat at the table
quietly
the salt and pepper
barely out of reach
but he would not speak
chewing the butterfly pork chop
precisely
she asked him if it needed
any salt
and he simply stuck
another chunk into his mouth
slowly but briefly shaking
his head
he buttered an ear of corn
using a slice of bread
and picked it up
clumsily
worked away at it
fearlessly
she knew it needed salt
but he wouldn’t say a word
and she wouldn’t dare
interrupt
a second time
she wanted to let him know
there was a good movie
airing on the pay-per-view
but thought twice
telling herself she was sure
he wanted to figure things out
all on his own
may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Great atmosphere – a poem that makes the reader imagining a variety of backstories.
thank you, Chris
great capture
thank you Bonnie!
Intriguing, Matthew.
Makes me wonder if he’s back from war, trying to readjust to normal life. You created tension and mystery here.
Well done.
Thank you for your comments. I’m elated you enjoyed the mystery in this piece.
I’m sure it’s always the best way! 😉 Feels like a piece from a novel…very good indeed John! 🙂
Thanks so much for visiting and commenting on this piece, Suzy. It’s always a pleasure having you here.
So vivid and captivating. I imagined a son out of rehab or prison … I am delighted to find your blog and enjoy reading and listening to these poems.
Thanks for the follow and likes. I am humbled and grateful 🙂
Thank you very much, glad you are enjoying my poetry. I’m looking forward to reading more of yours.