Wednesday, April 9, 2008

piece by piece

things fall apart if they are not checked
daily, or even moment to moment
a shingle can fly off the roof, an insulator
fall from a post, a fly buzz into the kitchen

geraniums are hardy, too stiff to wilt
when dried out the pots fall over, spilling
the dirt onto the shelf and floor, damn cats
a rock in each to help gravity

childhood stories wind around the pear tree
plastic bag tied in knots holds  a huge apple
in place on its branch, defying birds and moon
even the pull of the earth and tides

taking apart the household, piece by piece
ceramic frogs, chicken mugs, silver dollars
Indian head nickles, Roosevelt dimes
dust, boxes of shoes and pictures of us

it's taken a long while to find the courage
to open the corners, drawers and envelopes
"I hate to throw away things people cared about,"
our eldest brother says in the woodshed

each Christmas ornament, weary from holding shape
shedding its color, gathered into plastic bags
stashed out of context and found
brings us closer to an empty house

a silent kitchen without a fire
a greenhouse with no geraniums
an empty house brings us closer
to letting her go



la diabla said...

Oh I miss her so.

la diabla said...

Luv the piks!! MOre more more!

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