Left
Behind
Because the key fit and the lock turned, she opened
the door just enough to see a light
had been left on, then pulled
the door closed again.
Because a light had been left on, she grabbed
the knob as if gripping a steering wheel
in a blizzard, and gave it a hard turn
before reluctance drove her away.
Because reluctance wanted to master her, she opened
the door and entered the kitchen, its mildew
greeting and scattered mouse droppings
her only invitation to come in.
Because mildew and feces are so unseemly,
she scouted for bare spots
on the tile and tip-toed to the
countertop licked clean of crumbs.
Because cleanliness marked her home and not
this, her mother’s, she found
a porcelain pail and long-dried sponge
to begin the necessary work.
Because her work required the use of water and someone
had shut it off, she looked out the picture
window above the sink at the bare
birch she would have to leave behind.
Because she had been left behind, she left empty
pail and sponge, flicked off the light switch,
as an executioner sending the final
jolt, closed the door behind her, left
the key with the clutter on the counter.
Copyright © 2005 Claudia M. Stanek