Far be it from me

your old shirt hanging on the clothesline
mud outside the door
your tools arranged just so
shelves full of empty boxes, crates, rusted wires
broken bowls

and I’m waiting every evening
for you
to come through the door
you have a key
I have no lock
you don’t need it anymore

greasy rags, tattered blankets, old bedsheets
torn into strips
a ragged towel rolled up for your pillow

but the faucet doesn’t drip
you took home a single wheel
a jar of screws, a sharp white stone
still good, you say, still useful

alone, I’m alone

Pediatrician Kelley White worked in inner city Philadelphia and now works in rural New Hampshire. Her poems have appeared in journals including Exquisite Corpse, Rattle and JAMA. Her most recent books are Toxic Environment (Boston Poet Press) and Two Birds in Flame (Beech River Books). She received a 2008 Pennsylvania Council on the Arts grant.

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