Sound of trash cans
Metal on metal
And the whirring of the bathroom fan
Laundry piled in front of me, beside me
Wet dog: muddy
Pawing over the hardwood
Rain
Patters
Slams
Trickles
Down the gutter that needs cleaning
Where the squirrels have been secretly stashing their nuts
Now bursting into tiny trees
Schizophrenic neighbor my bipolar self can't judge
Cleaning off her porch again
Wearing a dirty pink nightie and white rabbit slippers
Day dreams will find you there
They'll sneak up behind you
They'll slink into your minutes and hours
You'll remember
Things you thought you'd be able to always forget
And you won't know why
Or how to stop the thinking.
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