Over the fence, the dead settle in 
for a journey. Nine o'clock. 
You are alone for the first time 
today. Boys asleep. Husband out. 

A beer bottle sweats in your hand, 
and sea lavender clogs the air 
with perfume. Think of yourself. 
Your arms rest with nothing to do 

after weeks spent attending to others. 
Your thoughts turn to whether 
butter will last the week, how much 
longer the car can run on its partial tank of gas.