It's five o'clock in the morning.
The calendar rationing my time
in front of the fireplace at Rice House. Pennies of time left
how to spend?
As long as I'm there I'm there,
so no need to feel bad.
As I write this,
I hear a steel clunk of a door closing
my last day.
Having to face an awful decision,
I take my child in hand
and keep the arms that hugged me
at Rice House always around
and off I go like Little Orphan Annie
down the road to the city.