Coming Back to Life

In a busy café,
a couple – hard not to notice
the incision showing through her
clinically shorn hair.

Her husband is her guide
as they clear their table.
“Garbage in there.” In go paper napkins,
delicately, like presents under a Christmas tree.

“Recyclables here. Which ones are those?”
She points to a plastic cup and a Coke can.
Her husband nods in appreciation
of her returning awareness.

“Dishes go in this bin.” She picks up a spoon
and looks to him for reassurance.
Then a coffee mug, and her husband chimes in,
“Don’t forget the fork.”

Suddenly peals of laughter erupt
straight from her gut, and he asks,
“What’s so funny?” She gasps,
“YOU SAID ‘FORK’!!!”

The whole place cracks up, joining her
in her first joke since brain surgery.
And, as tears stream down his cheeks,
he starts chortling too.

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Written for Sunday Scribblings; the prompt was “Wit.” Also posted at my nearest and dearest, Poets United.