An Honest Man

My best friend, a sweet man,
drove all the way from Mankato
when my wife left me. At the door
he stood as tall as I
and we hugged. Then he said,
“Look good you. How manage?
Can’t imagine. If my wife left
for sure gunmyheadshoot will.”
I gave him a don’t-be-silly shove.
Before he left, I could feel him looking
at me. He said that seeing me alone
made him cherish his wife. He did,
but his wife left him anyway
and—well, he did.

John Lee Clark