lost souls

I see the truck
outside.
the movers, young and strong.
how easily
they carry out the boxes.
the furniture,
one piece at a time.
up the ramp,
everything taped
and folded
over with a blanket.
snug into the dark mouth
of the van.
I watch them as they work,
laughing, unaware
of the why.
I lean against the sink
in my kitchen.
the windows, both front
and back are open.
I feel the cool
clean breeze of the day
curl around
my hands, my neck,
my face.
I feel young again.
the doors slam, and the latch
goes down heavy
against the locks.
the truck pulls away
and I wonder where they
are going,
where will they land,
these lost souls on this
fine autumn day.