The radiator clanked at break of day

The radiator clanked at break of day

the way it did before I went away—

seven years, I swore I'd never hear

that sound again. But I'm back here

and it's the same—cast iron, chipped paint,

heat that comes whether I want it.

I lay in bed trying to decipher

what it meant. But I already knew:

some things follow you no matter

how far you go or how many years

you stay away. Some sounds

never really leave.