I Went To Your House Today
I went to your house today
To the horror of the house,
The empty house
Where I have to decide if your barren garden
Will be planted this spring
Or if it will be left to memory
To remember how you used to sit inside
With your coffee and toast
Or stand at the kitchen counter chopping carrots for a hearty stew
I stayed outside to miss you under the February sun,
To scrape the Earth beneath your rake;
To wipe away winter, when you left.
I have not found your brown corduroy coat,
The one with the leather trim and the worn ribs
That made you look hurly-burly
Even though you had boy shoulders, white and tender
That I touched as you lay dying and wondered
When you first knew they were shrinking
I went to your house today
I sold your car last week
But haven’t washed your clothes,
I smell the shirts for the scent of an old man
So you won’t leave me alone at the house
I toiled all winter and weeks later
The jonquils came in clusters in your backyard
Like passengers on a bus
Grouped together, their pale yellow faces
Happily bobbed in the spring breeze
Cherry blossom trees exploded in white
And I imagined they were brides
Staring demurely at me from under their white veils,
Daring me to be more cheerful
As I worked, I felt the heat of the sun
Through my green sweater
And knew winter’s page was turning
But my hands were dry, chapped and split
With healing blisters from a winter that lingered
Inside your house and around me, with me, in me
