her last words hang heavy
in the air as your car door slams
shut. through its open window
you watch as she walks steadily
up a gravel path to her front porch
lit by two yellow bulbs buzzing
with a cloud of moths and mosquitoes.
she fishes a key from her purse
and without a pause or glance
back in your direction unlocks
the door and slips inside
her darkened home. through
drawn curtains the muted glow
of a lamp greets the night
and from memory you imagine
those slow barefoot steps
toward a back bedroom
as her dress slides
off bare shoulders
coming to rest on
the wooden
floor.
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