--- J O S H   W A L L A E R T

I'm leaving--


				to get milk, she said
and left before his nod replied.
The door cried closed and she was lost.
How strange, he thought that Love would go
and leave her suitcase, clothes behind,
then shrugged and
				drank his coffee black.

Ten minutes.  She was back, his wife,
with milk, and grace, and eyes.