Twelve
Months to the Day
James Thomas Hazard
October
People
got tired of talking to me
Now
they leave me alone while I work
“Crazy
kid,” Bob likes to say.
If
only John could write to me
September
Larry
likes to call me Sport
“I
happen to know a barber,” he said
Needs
a guy to sweep his floor
He’ll
pay you good to do it, Sport.”
August
Beth
looked mad while making dinner
“What
do you do all day?” she said
“Just
sit around and watch TV?”
John
always let me help him cook
July
The
house is always dark and empty
John
is there but I can’t find him
I
miss the big, wooden clock
I
used to wind with two round keys
June
Beth
and Larry talk at night
I
hear their voices through the wall
“How
long will he stay?” I hear him say
I
dream of the house but it’s empty and dark
May
I
smell fresh paint on the walls of my room
One
lamp is all I need for reading
I
have a bathroom all to myself
And
a window for watching the dogs next door
April
Mom
has let her hair turn gray
She’s
mad at John for going away
“And
you,” she says. “You’re still around.”
I
hand her a bag of unopened letters
March
Strangers
walked through the house today
It’s
neat since women came to clean it
Brandy
said to wait outside
And
told me she would do the talking
February
I
pace the floors. The rooms sound strange.
My
older sister Beth brought food,
Lifted
my shirt and felt my ribs
And
said that I should try to eat
January
My
younger sister Brandy called
She
knows somebody called an agent
Says
she’s nice, her name is Collette
But
she’s loud on the phone and sounds like a smoker
December
Two
policemen came to the door
Guns
and badges make me nervous
Just
wanted to see if I was okay
One
of them smiled and gave me a card
November
My
family says I’ll have to move
Since
I can’t work to pay the mortgage
But
this has always been my home
If
I can’t stay then where will I go?
Twelve
Months to the Day
October
My
older brother died today
When
I came home the house was dark
I
went to his room and turned on a lamp
And
saw the letters he left unopened