Wanda

Wanda was my shero

Long, tall, and beautiful Wanda

Smart, funny, with her grandmother’s hair-

Sunshine in her smile

Personality like honey-

Educated, business mind,

Earned her own money.

Myron towered over the average man

Movie-star charm

Velvet steel arms

A Sam Cooke grin

that could change any keep out signs to ” please come in”-

When Myron came home

On most Friday Nights

Like Catfish with Flintstones

You could count on a fight

Wanda ran often to our door

scratched and bruised-

Burt’ (she’d say to my mother)

That son-of-a-bum

I am done with this crazy ass fool.

Weeks turned to months

The months to a couple of years

Until finally she whispered-

“I need help to disappear”.

Wanda left Myron while he slept in their bed

No suitcase.

Just her daughter.

Some peanut butter and white bread.

…

Two one-way tickets made her smile again

She safely escaped

It was the last time he would ever see her face

Myron showed up

Unshaven, sober, shocked, and surprised

My Mother said he even had tears in his eyes-

She did it, she left, with no trace or no tracks

Tired of the verbal abuse and one too many slaps

Myron stayed sober,

but faced a hard fact;

his money, new life with too-sweet promises,

never brought Wanda back.

©fchickombottom