Aubade
Christopher Kuhl
A frying pan in the sink,
Crumbs on the counter,
Newspapers by the door,
A blanket
Thrown over a chair. Someone
Left the porch light on
All night, and the door
Ajar. These are the signs
Of another life …
In the morning’s white light
I sing you this song:
Let me into your house, your deep-shaded house;
Let me into your house,
And lock the door.
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