Kevin Shyne lives and writes in Princeton, Illinois. 

Wash On Gentle
By Kevin Shyne

I guard our house in stocking feet
a softly stepping flannel man
amid the whirring
of the bathroom fan
the furnace rumble
the freezer’s hum
their sounds as close to nourishment
as flavors on my tongue.

On my watch
each room becomes
an instrument
plucked randomly
as if our house were practicing
its scales while you are gone.

Now I must wait
hold our language in my mouth
unspeak your name
wear my flannel inside out
until your fabric comes and I
surrender to your sweet demands
your nap against my arms
against your face against my hands.