The Lure of Vacant Spaces
The lure of vacant spaces,
run-down houses that haven’t yet made good
on their promise
to become firewood.
A second promise,
unspoken,
of return
broken like the hinge
that held the gate in place.
Craters on his face.
His mouth a gutter
where she dropped her keys.
A getaway car,
the invisibility of speed.
Could they hit
escape velocity? She wondered.
The freeway,
an umbilical cord
severed and tied off
by the coarse hands
of a country doctor.
Pressing in the right spot
he could still feel a twinge.
Two astronauts
adrift. A spider who stowed away
at the launch site.
Hubble eyes glancing backward.
What do they carry from home?