Runcible Spoon

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Father Leaves for Work, Mother Leaves for Good

 

You are up early.

Learning from the man of the house.

Shaving beside him with a razor without blades

and twice the shaving cream.

 

Learning to lather it on thick.

Like all the mornings before.

 

Standing by the door.

Waving before its back to bed.

 

Awoken later by your mother slamming

things down into a single suitcase

on the bed.

 

Never once seeing you

as though you are a ghost.

 

Rushing into a waiting cab

that backs out of the driveway

at half past one in the

afternoon.