You are receiving this letter because your
house is empty. The window on the second floor
 
is open and the long white curtain is blowing
out. As we drove by we wept
 
and checked our pockets for lottery tickets.
Your neighbor has too many wind chimes
 
and we noticed a dead armadillo
on your porch. We suspect your house
 
is haunted vacant. The painted stucco is like mint
ice cream. They don’t make wooden shutters
 
like yours anymore. We noticed no children
playing on your street. If you are still alive
 
reading this, we ask you to pay your taxes.
Come back and trim the raspberries. Throw out
 
the Morris chair. Watch the bees.
Pianos do not make good buckets.
 
If you are reading this, tell us why you left:
There is a fine for abandonment.
 
We will come to your new house
and take away your memories.