He scratches lightly, like a mouse
trying for traction on the ice
While I inspect the vacant home made of twigs
cradled by the bush in the yard.

Ode to last summer’s busy guests.
Their winged commotion would startle me
As I walked past, technically half naked.
Sandals! Shorts!
What wicked thoughts
as I pull my hood over my hat
to cover the stark white slice of my neck.

I give an apathetic tug.
Two bitter ends, connected by a short leash.
Longing for dewy grass—
or, I guess,
just breakfast for now.

Brow pressed against wet tile,
sweet drumming feet
keep time in the hallway.
I project my voice up and out
of my steam retreat
“I asked for 5 minutes!”
I can’t recall showers
before they were born.

I woke with too much purpose this morning.
I swear it was me
who split the dark sky open
like pointed steel through wood.

The sharp hack of existence hit
when I visualized my wallet
on the kitchen counter,
leaning against that vase
with the snake on it.

Second in line
at the grocery store,
cart overflowing.