Dominic

Dominic is 94 years old,

Pale, Frail and oh so fragile

He sits for hours on the stoop

Of his apartment building

On 84th Street in Bensonhurst

Blanket on his lap keeping him warm

His kind Jamaican caretaker reads magazines while she

Watches over him in a lawn chair beside him

And he watches the pretty girls walking by

Occasionally waving, always smiling, always smiling

Dominic spent his lifetime walking, working,

Loving and living in this Brooklyn neighborhood

Where he was born

His Sicilian immigrant parents taught him to be a good man

Be nice to the ladies, they said

Be kind to the old ones

Kiss the babies

Go to Mass

Find a good girl and get married

And now Dominic sits in the hot sun

Outside of his apartment building

A flock of biddies from other apartments

Line up along the stoop next to him

As they have done for decades

Sitting in their folding chairs and lawn chairs

They tire him with their gossiping and nastiness

Life is too short for that he has always thought

So he watches the girls

And they rush by, fancy coffees in their hands

And he smiles to himself,

They don’t even know what good espresso really is

Not the way a good Sicilian gentleman knows

Carrying their shopping bags in their hands

Rushing home to husbands and boyfriends

Reminding him of all the girls he kissed

And loved in this old borough

And suddenly there she is, the single mom with the two little boys

Who lives in Apartment 2C

He always wonders where the man is

She should not be alone

A woman like that should not be alone

She always smells so nice

And stops to say hello and touch his hand

And he struggles to get up like a good gentleman should

He’s embarrassed to be sitting down in front of a lady

He forces himself up and reaches for her grocery bags

Insisting on taking them to her apartment

The caretaker and the mom let him take her bags

While they help him go into the building

Holding his elbows firmly to keep him upright

And to protect his pride and dignity

Dominic carries the groceries inside

No woman should carry bags!

Not while he still can.

And he smiles to himself,

Feeling like he is 35 again.

Taking deep breaths to smell her beautiful perfume

Cherishing the feeling of her arm wrapped under his

And his eyes start to water slightly

As he pretends he is bringing her home after shopping

And that she will go inside and she will make him and the boys

Sunday dinner and love only him

And that he will play with the little boys, teaching them how to

Be good men like his father did.

Maybe in another lifetime, she would have been his

Maybe in another lifetime, she will.

- Julie O'Hara

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