It’s only Thursday. She’s gone and
she won’t be back until Tuesday.
He’s pretty much had enough of
his peanut buttered cracker snacks,
the empty rooms, the late-night TV
he never gets to see except
whenever she goes away
and his insomnia kicks in.
He leaves for work earlier than usual,
their routines no longer synchronized:
the morning shower readily available,
only half a pot of coffee to brew.
At night, after his meager dinner
he convinces himself he needs to sleep.
There’s only a single light in the house,
a feeble bulb in the hallway
to help him find his way to bed.
He doesn’t even turn on the radio.
No lullabies required. There’s no point.
He won’t sleep and there’s no one to sing to.
~ EMPTY ROOM ~