I look up at the clock.
It’s time to go, so
I cover the typewriter
and calculator, lock my radio
in the file cabinet
and straighten my desk.
On the way out, I unplug
the Christmas tree lights.
I am rarely the last one
to leave the office.

Alone in the elevator,
I listen to a lilting
rendition of “Frosty
The Snowman.” The door
slides open. Outside,
it’s already dark. I say
good night to the guard
in the parking lot, wait
for my car to warm up.
It does and I drive off.

Halfway home
I turn on the radio
Madonna sings
her new hit, “Open
Your Heart.” At
the same time, on
another station,
Cyndi Lauper sings
her latest song, “Change
Of Heart”. Not that long
ago, it might have
been Brenda Lee
singing “Heart In Hand”
and Connie Francis
Belting out any number
of her most popular
tunes: “My Heart
Has A Mind Of Its
Own,” “Breakin’ In
A Brand New Broken
Heart,” “When
The Boy In Your Arms
(Is The Boy In Your
Heart)” or “Don’t
Break The Heart
That Loves You.”
I Don’t know why
i think about
such things.

I park the car
in the garage, walk
across the courtyard
and check the mailbox.
A few bills, ads,
Christmas cards
from friends I no
longer feel that
close to. No
messages on my
phone machine.