Unexpected Sunday
I would just like to say that
yesterday, because you made
me go outside and do things
with my hands in the cool
bright sun and the lingering
memory of rain, I enjoyed
myself. Even though I bent
the crossbar of the chain link
fence when the full weight
of the dead tree I sawed down
took its unexpected path to
the ground, and even though
I later broke the handle of
the axe on the very first swing,
I had a satisfying afternoon
because we cleared away the
brush and fallen limbs, and
cleaned the muck out of the
gutters, and maybe sealed
the places on the roof where
the water gets in, and in our
trips between sawbuck and
woodpile and fire pit, we had
the time to talk about nothing
really big, but in the process,
we lit that fire, and we rested
there for a minute or two, you
leaning on the shovel, me
stirring the ash around, a few
moments centered, which
was for me, a warm extension
to a good day spent with you.
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