when I come home
I see a dead woman’s car has moved
from one side of the street
to the other.
I am not so fanciful as to believe
that the car has developed intelligence:
I asked it; she didn’t respond.
I had earlier planned to take responsibility
for these alternate side shenanigans
until a member of the family
eventually took the car away
though it’s been weeks since the dead woman died
and I’ve heard little since.
It is easier
knowing that this last detail
has been taken out of my hands
but I can’t help but be curious
as to who is helping out
my former neighbor
in this final good deed.
My current preferred theory
is that ghost mice arrive
sometime before midnight
and collectively man the controls of the car:
twisting the key
pushing the pedal
running along the wheel
all in the purpose
of moving the car along
crossing the street
to avoid tickets on the dead woman’s estate.
I have no proof for this theory
nor do I have proof
that no neighbor has the key
or that a relative is padding upstairs,
each day dealing with her stuff
each night moving her car
every hour confusing me more.
I know nothing about this situation.
I think I may prefer it