Diminishing Form #19

fires in the laundry room, still burning
smoke rises through the stairwell--reminds me of lucky air
breath rests heavy in our chests, in our throats
definitely time to open some windows and
mix-up the atmosphere

the entire second floor catwalk vibrates with
pounding rolling masses of children
muted liquid shrieking, a chlorine perfume
maple leaves and curling at their edges

four times up and down these stairs each day
cigarettes and mail and beer and 10 slow laps in the pool
and each is underwater

closet floor piling under drifts of
clothes we will not wear anymore

sunset watching smoke leak thin from laundry room windows