Peeping
by Casey Francis


Glimpsing his wife step from the tiled shower,
blonde hair dripping as she reaches
for an oversized towel, he remembers

the path leading from the ball field to home,
the graveled alley slinking behind bright windows
hung low on a yellow house,

the game with two innings extra, insects
swarming the lights, his feet rounding third
then hoping to sprint the last run in,

a base coach yelling “down” and
an umpire announcing “out.”
He remembers shuffling home after

when his tiptoes guided him through an unknown
yard. His eyes straining to interpret steam
obscuring a window and a bead of water tracing

the length of a pecan figure while another
water drop fell from her breast. He remembers
straining at that window.






Copyright 2019 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.