Fences & Neighbors
The first thing we did in the new
place was build a fence,
to keep the cats in,
the coyotes out.
Makes sense.
Nine years now, no longer
a new beginning, stronger
than we thought,
even when we bought,
swearing at our introduction
we’d not live again
under reconstruction,
like the first 43 years,
filled with joy and tears,
eight homes, ten
if you count the rentals
all of them perfect, but then,
we have a remodeling addiction,
an HGTV affliction.
But this is our Forever Home,
last step in our trip,
the toes-up place, end-of-the-line,
until into forgetfulness we slip.
So, a little noise and dust
(okay, a lot of noise and dust)
justified for this one, if you must,
for new goods we’d shop,
for our alpha and omega stop.
There are mountains to the east,
where the mornings begin,
an ocean not too far west,
sucking up the sun,
declaring each day’s end,
but never an end to the fun.
Neighbors coming around,
cookies and potted plants in hand,
friendly folks, welcoming,
almost as nice as the ones
we left behind, again and again,
starting in our Midwest land.
I’m getting close to eighty
sweetie has long held her Medicare card.
This really might be it, the last station,
except, perhaps, the old folks home.
Who knows? The fix-it work’s almost done.
