Dead Bolt

[Pjames]

Morning's awaiting the slide and the thunk
of the dead bolt
locking behind you; it listens for chirps
from your car keys,

signals of hushing alarms. In the stillness, the tea pot
whistles then yawns to the clicking of Legos the kids build;
murmuring hums from the dishwasher singing its calm hymn.
Finding my pen like a friend at a party, we talk men—
whispering phrases the kids shouldn't hear till they've grown old.

Footsteps approaching
the patio door bring a quick chill:
words back in place, in their books
lest they slip out
and blame me.

Your poem is clear, which I like.  You seem to be describing the day of a stay-at-home mom.  The only thing that isn't clear is, who are you talking to after the father/husband leaves?  I assume it's a girlfriend, but would prefer it if the poet identified the person.  Still, if you don't change the poem, I think it works as it is.

To me, the most significant aspect of this poem is the implication that the mother/wife has an interest in other men.

If I've interpreted the poem incorrectly, please let me know.  My comprehension isn't always great.  I'm a very literal-minded person.