One Morning

One Morning

One morning they checked

My bed and

I was gone.

About twelve hours later

The sun would set.

The birds would converse in

Merry prayer.

The oceans tentacles

Would swallow the rocky shore.

The little red

Mailbox flags would still

Be up before three o’clock.

The baker’s crusty sculptures

Would still rise, releasing

Masterful aromas.

The narrow park next to the school would grow

It’s ankle-high grass.

Their swollen hearts

Would still chase

Warm portions of life’s milk

To their entire bodies.

One morning they checked

My bed and

I was…