Why do I always leave the entry-way light until last?
I turn in the safety of the vinyl patch by the door,
working to recall the placement of each forgotten toy
The dollhouses dragged out for a city—here
the game—over there—too elaborate to bear demolition
And not just toys clutter the floor
There's the laundry,
Library books read, skimmed, ignored—ah—there
They say it goes by so fast
They say to cherish every moment
They say to let the mess go
I don't think they've seen this mess
Two more and…
I slide in under straightened sheets
the only straight thing, sometimes,
feel my good man breathe.