minus me

Minus me, you turned on the kitchen light and sang a little song. By the stove the kettle whistled and your dinner cooked. Your fingers snapped to the rhythm of your tune. Your steps sprung blithely on the smooth linoleum

Minus me you ate your dinner, by the TV light you randomly picked a show. A dinner without chair without table. Just you and you alone on yesterday’s newspaper

Minus me you did your dishes alone. In your mouth you savored still a little night’s music. You sang to yourself and the water kept your song companionated

Minus me you grab your keys and to the door you headed. Out there the threatening winter sky to you seemed just another ordinary night. You forgot to turn on the little light which offered modest guidance by the entrance. But minus me you simply

Reached for the knob

Opened the door;

And took off.

(12/13/02)

© idlehouse