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.