Unwelcome to me

The too bright light from

From across the street.

Spilling in, over the sill, onto


The undusted dresser,

The bedposts of an empty bed,

Blankets and rumpled sheets cast aside,

The door half closed as if she still slept there.


I wish to be left to my dreams.

And random memories of

Departed friends, scattered family,

The despair of lost security.


As another final morning dawns

The light through my window dims,

No match for this sky, gray like new steel,

The clouds at end on the far horizon.


Now awake, the Neighbor I see is only me

Reflected back on my window.

He naps fitfully in his last comfortable chair;

He will leave the light on again all day.








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