they must be out of town

the little black dog and the cute guy with red hair

must be out of town, the kitchen has been wiped down,

the toys are in a box and a vacuum cleaner has crept 

across the floor gathering hair and fuzz and white specks

and loose nuts and bolts, who knows where they belong,

we hope his new bike will not fall apart when it hits a bump.

the rain has stopped, the flute has fallen silent, music

drifts in the window and a crow calls out his last cry

for the night, the clouds hang low in the sky and 

I face the darkness with some dread for when worms 

emerge from my arms and legs in a bad dream, there 

will be no one to hold me in their arms, but at least

the kitchen is clean.