The Notary

The radiator sang a metal song

at 3:00 AM to wake me from my bed.

I waited for a hand to come along

but found I was the only one instead.

The mail is just a stack of white and gray,

privacy updates and the dentist's bill.

There is no one to chase the dark away

or tell the clanking pipes to just be still.

My keys are heavy in the pocket of my coat,

a brassy weight that makes the fabric dip.

I’m captain of a very small and leaky boat

with nothing but a firm and tired grip.