It’s Past Half One
It’s past half one
he’s still not home
A chilly, moonless night.
Why doesn’t he answer his phone?
Before he left,
he held me
and kissed me
longer than he usually does.
That look in his eyes!
“Will you stop worrying so much?”
He stooped on the creaky porch
to adjust his worn brown boots
Then I watched him disappear
through the gate, down the hill.
His usual route.
Two o’clock now
“Where can he be?”
Out there, somewhere
so cold, dark, windy.
Around the porch
autumn leaves flutter
My hands are trembling
when under a dying potted plant
I discover a letter!