The Three Streets

First street. The roof - I tell her about the roof, how it keeps its weather for me, how the storm knows the way in. She leans against the gate post and holds it.

Second street. The pension - how it shrinks like a coat the cold keeps fitting, how the numbers get lighter. She leans against the gate post and holds it.

Third street. The daughter - I say her name to the dark, say it again, say it plainer, the way you say a thing to a door. She leans against the gate post and holds it.

The moon had moved. The last post came up. She leans against it and holds.