Not Yet

Death has not yet visited this house

but he knows where we live.

I've stood at the window,

anxiously peering out

into the darkness,

seeing nothing but the reflection of the room 

behind me.

But I know he's out there

somewhere.

And he knows we are in here.

He hears us cough.

He sees us stumble.

No, I haven't seen him,

but I've felt him

as he cruises by

slowly,

with his headlights off

and his window rolled down.

When I know he has gone,

I turn away from the window and

I hear myself laugh way too loud.

I touch my husband's back as I walk past his chair,

startling him.

I grin at my son, showing way too many teeth,

and he smiles back,

uncomfortable.

I pat the dog. 

Which one of us has caught his eye?

Which one of us will let him in?

          --Sappho