Years with a Husband by Tim Jones

Years with a Husband

Stone to her water
his edges eroded slowly
leaving the core in place.
He was immovable
from desk, chair,
or opinion,
the slave and exemplar
of routine.

If she let him
he would wear those clothes —
scuffed fawn trousers,
frayed blue shirt —
till eternity,
till kingdom come.
He would vote the same way,
express the same
dislikes:
lawn bowls, modern art, the very thought
of a Pacific holiday.
Their son
she now saw
was growing stony too.
She blamed testosterone
and private schools.

Still, there was this:
that as she stretched and changed
rode the courses of her life
her husband would always be there,
blunt, imperceptive, abrupt:
her rock.



Tim Jones

Credit note: "Years with a Husband" is included in Tim Jones' new poetry collection "Men Briefly Explained", published by Interactive Press (Brisbane). Copies of the book are available from bookshops and online. You can find out how to get hold of a copy here: http://timjonesbooks.blogspot.com/p/men-briefly-explained.html

Tim says: The man described in this poem doesn't have my particular likes and dislikes (hey, I like modern art!), but as I get older, I do find myself fighting against a creeping rigidity, and a growing tendency to say things along the lines of "you young people don't know how lucky you are" and "of course, in my day, we had proper [x]" (insert the [x] of your choice).

I notice this tendency to fixed ideas in other men of middle and greater years, more than I notice it in women. Is it a gender-linked trait? Is it all the fault of testosterone? I'm not sure, but I wanted to explore the idea in this poem, then invert the implied criticism at the end.

By the way, I got rid of those fawn trousers years ago - and I only wear that blue shirt when all the others are in the wash.