Mr Clean

Waking up at three this morning for the cat
screeching in the rain, white noise
on the roof, washing down the dirt
from the last couple of days:
what is to happen, how to move forward,
has a mistake been allowed to grow and widen
a crack through clear crystal,
the more it is examined, the more it is handled,
the wider it grows, is this what I want?

The possibilities whirl around in the shower:
new homes, furniture, cities, lovers,
everything known left behind, everything
lost but not lost, still here, gone.
Best to make a clean break,
move on, or not, or wait, or . . .

The cat is waiting outside the door,
waiting while the day begins, waiting
to move into the new world:
unknown, dangerous, terrible and beautiful.