Road Work

For Charlie Shaw

I came home
to you sitting
on my
doorstep,
scratching at some
tiny piece
of metal,
excercising a beautiful excuse
of early morning
laziness.

Hours later,
I wasn't one
to talk.

While you went back
and taught
a college class,
I puttered around,
cleaning 
and drinking,
dancing 
and singing,
pretending as though
I have some real purpose
on Thursday
afternoons.