is scouring the glasses and plates
the kitchen is humming happily
in the dark and I
am ready for my little death.
The ficus in the living room
is already asleep.
We had a beautiful sunset
with great bold clouds in the west
glowing then dark gray as the sun
went down behind a bank of fog.
The lamp on the desk is the last
one shining in the house
but not for long.
Papa’s clock has struck the half
and tomorrow may be
restless, bearing wind.
The Dishwasher by Kyle Kimberlin is licensed under a
That sure is taking the long way around to say, "I'm going to bed." And really, does a ficus sleep? Is that supposed to be a metaphor for something?