(photograph taken by James Melnychuk)

HOME TONIGHT

You asked if I’d be home tonight,
but I’m not sure how to answer
for the dreary chill of morning
and dank dew seeped into my head,
making a stew thicker than an early winter fog.
Although the noonday sun has cleared
the skies, my memory escapes me.
Hijacked by some thought pirate
for a ransom I can’t afford.
I’m not sure if I really even care.
Will I be home tonight?
Will I be?