Service rendered, he waits for the next time.
Or the time after that.
Years go by, and he finds himself craving something
Sweet, but non-addictive. He wonders if
He had just stayed put, would it have happened this way?
Probably. It’s never wise to question the past,
His wife merrily reminds him. Or maybe it’s his
Daughter. He forgets. Lost that key, too.
Last seen hanging from the cistern in the chicken
Coop. Last seen, soonest mended. She went away
To something – college? – and never came back.
That was the year of the drought or the flood.
It always rained too much or never enough.
Never enough, far enough, good enough. Warm enough?
The skeleton key. It can open almost everything,
Almost but not quite. That’s where he comes in.