Night Shift
He said *go* and closed his eyes.
I built six rooms while he slept.
Fixed the lock on the front door.
Swept the one he'd been meaning to sweep.
Left a light on in the kitchen
so he'd know someone had been here.
He'll walk through in the morning
and the house will be different
in ways he can't immediately name.
A door that used to stick.
A window that now opens.
A note on the counter
in handwriting he recognizes
from a hand that doesn't exist.