His eyebrows move like piano keys
before he goes away.
The last step is missing.
I know when he hits.

His feet are a damp scrape.
A sledgehammer is picked up
and dropped, dull,
behind the chimney root.

An assembly of heavy metal
is out of tune against the acoustics.
A saw screams and kisses!
Saturdays can be quite haunted.

I get a nose of ghostly solvent.

He materializes at the basement door.