Come downstairs to find back door wide open.
Kitchen drawers disgorging their shame,
Glaring absence of phone-left-on-charge.
A dust-free space, where the pot of change sat.
Key snug in the lock, where you failed to turn it
before turning in for the night.
On the front doormat, a tract,
answers a question you never asked:
‘What happens after I get saved? To find out more
about what Jesus and the Church of Latter Day Saints
have taught about eternal salvation,
you may wish to check out our online store.’
No point sending Scene of Crimes Officers,
says the constable who calls
to give the crime reference
for the insurance company.
You can’t help those
who won’t protect themselves.
Hannah Stone has published two collections of poetry, Lodestone and Missing Miles. She co-edits the poetry e-zine Algebra of Owls. In other lives, she is a hill walker, forager, and is managed by two cats. A Londoner by birth, she is active on the poetry circuits in Yorkshire, England.
© 2018, Hannah Stone
Halfway Down the Stairs 