The roof tiles across the way are heavy and flat

The roof tiles across the way are heavy and flat.

They’ve been there since the seventies, probably.

I’m on a six-month lease and I haven’t even

unpacked the boxes of sweaters in the hall.

I found a shard of slate by the driveway.

Cold, layered, older than the concept of a mortgage.

In the rain, it turns the color of a wet sidewalk,

a dark, honest charcoal.

I held it until my fingers went numb.

I just wanted to touch something that didn't

require me to sign a form or promise to leave.