Just woke up from a nap
After taking mom to the airport.
As I walk into my studio,
I can hear my footsteps
Brushing against the carpet.
The house is quiet.
There's a hum in the air,
A hum not heard in over ten days,
Having out-of-town guest in the house.
It's a pleasant hum, peaceful.
A low-grade purr that soothes,
Allowing me to think. Finally.
Life has returned to normal, whatever normal is.
It's a sad hum, too — lonely.
An almost empty noise, hollow, cold.
Because for the past two weeks,
The hum was drowned by toddler screams,
And adult screams, too: STOP! GET DOWN! NO!
This new hum lacks my mother's warm playfulness,
And her giggles. And relentless teasing.
It says that my daughter and grandson
Have returned home,
That mom is now in route to Iowa.
It's a hum that reminds me
That there's two less cooks in the house,
And I'm hungry, and the refrigerator is empty.
So, I'd better get off this computer
And go get some fast-food.
'Cause I don't care much about hums
When I'm doggin' down a cheese burger.