After work, the very air outside went still

for hours. I sat in my own murmur,
the stirring within me loud as I managed
my task. I dragged my body swollen
to the dumpster filled with brittle branches
and hefted the bag inside–listened to clatter.

From my car, out of breath, I drove for hours
waiting for the call to come. It never did. 

In the weaning of the sun, sky edged orange
and the streetlight flecked on–a reminder
of time’s passing arc. That tomorrow would come
bright as anything and reset the sky over–
shoulder the waiting for just one more day.