If your husband never returned
From a trip to buy milk
Would you slip in the date
He vanished
While admiring
A neighbor’s petunias?
If they asked had you noticed
A change, would you say
How does one register
Change on a blank slate?
There were disappointments,
You’d admit kicking
The black tar of the sidewalk.
You might look up and down
The street at men watering
Their impeccable lawns,
Women pulling dandelions
One yellow fist at a time
And then glance at your house
As if for the first time
And see the deep hole
Your husband never finished
Filling. You remember
His lifting
The sledge hammer up
Over his shoulder
And bringing it down.
Was this a sign you missed?
Why didn’t you notice
The gutters, the broken gates,
The garage can spilling
With trash? No you won’t mention
Your husband’s disappearance,
How he left his cup of coffee
On the kitchen table half drunk
How you’ve kept it there.