Tearing It Down     Janet Kenning     When I left the trailer, when I left     The pantry filled with soup cans past their expiration date,     When I left the living room busy with paint     And laundry —some clean, some dirty shirts—     When I left the chipped sink crusted with dishes,     The antique glass doors stacked in the corner,     The refrigerator hummed, the space-heater danced     In the bathroom, light streamed in the dirty curtains,     It was still morning, I hadn't washed my face, hadn't eaten,     Like almost everyone who was leaving,     I thought it would be for a short while.

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