New Battery

The smoke detector started at 3:17.

I got up, stood on the step stool in the dark,

pressed the new battery in. Waited.

Nothing. Back to bed.

The green light blinks every 45 seconds.

I know because I've been counting.

Four nights now.

Today I misread a word on a bottle

and stared at it for a full minute

before it came back.

I can't remember now what word I thought it was.

The ceiling's dark except for the blink.

I count to 45 and it comes.

I count to 45 and it comes.

I've thought about pulling the detector off the bracket.

Every night I think about this.

Every night I don't move.

Forty-five.

It comes.