Human Resources

by Rhett Iseman Trull

At the end of the day he’s someone to come home to, a voice
in the hallway, stopping the clocks. My mixed-up morning
doesn’t matter anymore: smog, time cards, deadlines, ink,
Eloise crying again in her cubicle. I leave it all
behind: angry whir of the fax machine, requests for ergonomic chairs,
and the afternoon’s robotic conversations: eligible for benefits
in thirty days; sign here, Ms. Montgomery; sign here, Mr. Grey.

Home at last, I empty the blues from my pockets.
I tell him I love him and think I mean it. And that’s close enough
to happiness, his keys retired on the hook next to mine, scent
of cologne in my den. He pours the wine and I’ve got a reason
to wear that new red dress. The bed will be warm
on both sides tonight. The stars, like wolves,
will herd their lights into packs that look less lonely.

RHETT ISEMAN TRULL’s poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The American Poetry Review, Best New Poets 2008, Prairie Schooner, The Southern Review, and other publications. Her awards include prizes from the Academy of American Poets and the Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Foundation. She received her B.A. from Duke University and her M.F.A from UNC Greensboro, where she was a Randall Jarrell fellow. She and her husband publish Cave Wall in Greensboro, North Carolina. Her manuscript The Real Warnings was selected by contest judge Sheryl St. Germain as winner of the 2008 Anhinga Prize for Poetry.