Sometimes, Dark at Night

Sometimes, dark at night,
When I hear my heart beat
In my ear, it sounds like your footsteps
Down the narrow hall of Shelly's
Trailer home in the Kootenay forest
In the wee, warm hours of June and July
When the late-night runs of wood chip trucks
Down the winding, wooded highway

Rumbled by. That hollow hall,

That holy passage of convenience in the mountains,
Thin wood over empty crawl space over slug-dotted lawn,
Could make the small tread, our toddler's pitter-patter
Thump around like tympani detuned
After a long orchestral vacation.