On The Rocks Poem by Chuck Toll

The pickup sits waiting in the drive.
The well-kept house next door is silent.
The husband has come back to collect
A few of his favorite things before
Moving in with a new girlfriend.

No noise whatever comes from inside.
What the woman must feel, watching
Her spouse of years casually box items
He wants for a new life without her.
Could a castaway feel more marooned?

The day is warm and sunny. Birds flit,
Insects drone, and the dogs she walks
Wander aimlessly around the yard.
The postman has letters for them both,
No change of address yet on file.

A quiet street like ours can match
The chaos of a sudden shipwreck
In its abrupt and callous destruction
Of point and purpose in our lives.
And our street has other quiet houses.