Decatur

a sigh snuck in with the draft
from the window above the couch

its cold; february has swallowed the empty
house and the sigh settles somewhere below the coffee table

and the rocking chair. in the coming
days, more winds and more sighs

worm their way in through the warped wood
and collected on the sandy floor

and in the crevices of the musted
living room. the couch, rocking chair, lamps

are the only ones who hear those sighs
before they are absorbed with the coming springseason.