Glass (Crank 2)

I should straighten up.

Scrub. Make the place

presentable. Habitable.

A place I want to be in.

But I’m exhausted. Sore.

Sore. Too sore to pick up

my stuttering baby. I warm

a bottle. Similac pacifier.

Then I locate the phone.

“Mom? I know it’s late,

and I’m sorry. But I need

you to come get Hunter.”

They Say a Picture

Is worth a thousand words.

Mom studies the picture

that is my apartment, says

not one word except, This

is the right decision.

I kiss Hunter good-bye,

knowing this is the right

decision, knowing too

that I probably won’t see

him again for a while.

He goes to Mom with

enthusiasm, gooing a hello.

Poor baby should be fast

asleep. He’s going home

now. Home to sleep.

I will not sleep tonight.

I sit in the dark, staring