Outside the window
twin glint of green eyes shine work lamp light back
from the butterfly nut holding the saw blade
inside the metal bow.
"What are you doing outside at this hour, darling?"
I thought I would watch
what you are doing at this hour.
"Where is mother?"
I thought I would watch.
What are you doing at this hour
when breath escapes you
to see me again?
Are you coming home tonight?
Commercials drag into commercials
and promotions and bumps
until static clears and pop plays again on the AM/FM set
dashed to the floor.
I have been thinking about you
while you have been away.
"I know. I have thought about you too.
I will be home soon."
When?
"Soon!" The butterfly nut holding the blade tense
inside the arc of the metal bow shines light back
from the outside pane of the window.
Condensation of lungs fading inside
the clatter of saw to floor, unsteady knees chasing.
"I will be home soon. I promise. I will bring you
something beautiful."
