Harvest Night

A few words on my tired eyes
is all she says to me
standing by the drink machine
near the cracked mirror
nailed all crooked
in the hallway.

I sit in my car for a long time
when the shift ends
and watch swans fight over
ponds in the industrial park.

An old excavator
left to rust sits tilted
on a gravel hill
on the outskirts
of the mall.

The fridge handle
snaps off in my hand
when I try to open it.
Blue light pours
over me when I pry
the door free.

I eat my dinner cold
in the quiet night,
with nothing but
the streetlights
out the window.

I fall asleep like that
while trucks pass shaking
from the worn out road.
Her darkened hair
still freshly dyed
the only thing I dream
and don’t forget.