The Insurance Agent

Wyatt Prunty

He gathers at the base to take a breath,
To shuffle up the attic steps
And fumble with a light switch in the dark;
The bare bulb glares in pendulums of light,
Shadowing scattered toys and chairs,
Curled photographs and wedding clothes,
The storage space for mental scabs.
He sits down like a robot wearing out.

Agreement is a document unsigned,
A rotting beam in the angular wall;
Equity, a broken rocking horse,
The rummaging order of attic shelves;
And solvency, discarded clothes
Hung threadbare in permanent sway.

He throws the attic window wide
And scans Orion's ancient hunt
Repeating itself, a hollow sapphire
Coldly focused on his focusing eyes.

University of Virginia Virginia Quarterly Review
5 Boar's Head Place
PO Box 400223
University of Virginia
Charlottesville, VA 22903-3237
ISSN 2154-6932