The kids are out of the ribcage, string-
broken. At school, perhaps. Taking
a walk. They may be safe.
Perhaps the kids will never return.
Do you wait for them at the kitchen table?
Ladle extra gravy on the mashed potatoes?
You imagine you could find joy,
with or without the kids.
You imagine you were full
to begin with. Never without
purpose. Never sick
with wondering what could happen
while the kids were gone.