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Eliot used to run away
            In the woods up the
                        Hill behind the house some
Nights and I would lie
            And listen to papa getting
                        Up and speaking to ma
And the lights come on
            In the hall and water
                        Sounding in the tin basin,
And papa and Silas would
            Go out and the door
                        Would clatter in its frame
As their lights climbed
            The hill in darting
                        And broken-up raybeams.
Their voices would be soft
            In the woods and I knew
                        That ma was still asleep.
I would wake up to
            Papa crashing around with
                        Eliot and Eliot yelling at
Him. His teary, shaking
            Childvoice. I would watch
                        Out the window Silas lock
The outside door and walk
            Across the yard to where he
                        Slept and his light vanish.
Ma would come in and
            I was not asleep but still
                        And lean in and kiss me.