When dirty laundry shares the bookshelf
and the books are on the floor,
the hallway to the front door out
inclines until it's too steep
and you can't walk and it's day.
People are at work. And you'll be here tomorrow too
and all the named that used to come to mind
far away and overused.
And it won't get you out of bed
but it'll help you go to sleep
that all you remember about your last
Christmas with your family
is your cold breath on the flowers
around their mailbox
and your niece on the piano in her velvet green dress.
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