It was dusky and I could see pink on the neighbor’s rooftop
out the living room window from where I sat at the dinner table.
The boys were watching baseball on TV; I could hear
that the score was close and that the right team was winning.
Normally, I would have been watching the game
with the boys, but that night I was at the dinner table,
it was late, and I could clearly see the fading pink
on the roof of the neighbor’s house.
She was talking when I got up to take a shower.
She was saying something to me.
I finished my shower when all the hot was gone.
The wrong team had come back to win.
The curtains were drawn over the living room window.
I sat at the dining room table; it was late.
I tried to figure out when it was
that I’d shrugged my shoulders for good.
April 2012 Goodreads Monthly Newsletter Poetry Contest finalist.
Reprinted on The Houseboat (poetry page)