Our fruit bowl is broken.
A mirror, cracked.

Outside, part of the fence has collapsed.
The driveway is in disrepair.

Someone shattered a window.
Our plumbing sprang a leak.

Insomnia comes along—
like ambulances in the night.

The next day, you’re gridlocked
behind a funeral procession.

When you get home,
an envelope waits on the table.