A man opens his apartment door

And steps outside.

Before the door closes behind him 

I catch a glimpse 

Of a floor to ceiling bookcase.

His eyes meet mine 

And he asks

What happened. 

The red lights of the ambulance 

Reflect off his glasses 

As I tell him I don’t know.

We stand in silence for a few minutes,

Then he turns to open his door

And shuffles back inside.

To his bookcase

To his home

Without a word. 

I can still see the red lights 


In his glasses 



Coming Home

My shoes squeak 

as I walk through the door.

Drops of rain fall to the floor 

as I shrug off my coat.

My nose is red and running 

from the cold. 

I hear the creak of floor boards 

As you come down to greet me. 

And welcome me home. 

Gone and Back Again

I could walk out in the rain 

Drive down that familiar road 

Never to be seen again. 

But how often do we think 

Of the hours or days spent away?

At what a risk we all take

Each and every day. 

We’re always gone and back again, 

Until one day were only gone.

Never another again

Ever again.