Living Alone

 

It is quite easy here to keep my clothes

properly sorted—pants, shirts, jackets, blue jeans.

Seems ridiculous not to spread them out

in such vacuous space.

And there is no waiting list to wash them.

And the refrigerator is always half bare, daring me to try to fill it.

And my driveway never overflows—one car in a desert of black.

Oh, and the rooms are peaceful, quiet, never too cold or too hot.

I never had to beg for door knobs (or doors).

My bathroom came with all the fixtures.

No men appear unannounced to threaten my privacy.

And of course my apartment came with keys and locks and bolts.

All is “secure.”

The only thing—it’s not crowded on Thursday evenings (Laura’s Bible study).

The only thing—I never have to look for a place to park in the dark when I come home. The only thing—things are always as I left them.

The only thing—I’m never interrupted, never bothered, never missed.

The only thing—I never hear guitars at night on my stairs.

The only thing—I cry myself to sleep.

 

Copyright © 2002-08 Abigail Hilton