Thursday, November 12, 2020

thumb prints

i find a thumbprint
in
the pudding.
a small slender
thumb.
i see footprints
wet from the rain.
someone
slight of stature has
come and gone.
she's been
in the ice box,
in the cupboards.
nothing is where
it was before.
i see
on the bed.
the ruffled sheets
the pillows
on the floor.
there is no note.
no sign
of her.
nothing, as i look
down the street
before closing 
the door.

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