Sunlight By Charles Simic

As if you had a message for me...
Tell me  about the grains of dust
On my night table?
Are any one of them worth your trouble?

Your burglaries leave no thumbprint
Mine, too,are silent.
I do my best imagining at night,
And you do yours with the held of shadows.

Like actors rehearsing a play,
The dark ones withdrew
Into remote corners of the room,
The rest of us sat in expectation
Of your burning orarory.

If you did say something,I'm none the wiser.
The breakfast finished,
The coffee dregs were unenlightening.
Like a lion cage at feeding time,
The floor at my feet turned red.