Another day, another void,
another structure gone.
the mound replaced
by the pit.
And i'll be gone
before the toads
resume their songs
from the toxic pond.
No more Christmas trees
or turkey feasts,
all the children's toys
and games abandoned,
the children left last year.
The thousand pounds
of books i'll keep
are piling high
in neatly sorted boxes.
I’ll surround myself
in my new home
with walls of words
on paper. I can see it.
I found an empty
snail inside a snail.
The husk of the island
hollows out each day.
Like a hermit crab
my own new shell
will fit me better.
A hermit’s home no more.
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