cold one

in the fridge
while the sun burns bridges
through the blinds like a cage
the car crouched ready for
take off....
half a tank...how far...not fast
drive calm

an empty suitcase on the floor
fingerprints on the cellar door

the television eyes flicker
visions....wander the rooms
like ghosts
casting shadows
from the night to the dawn
grab an hour
on the couch

one shoe in the hall
the other at the front
door

a cold fan circles
the room
keeping the stale
pale air stirred

ice melted in
the drinks
the afterglow
of a storm
grown

waiting
while the clock
ticks
and the town
whistler
shrieks mutely
behind the
dark trees..

..