If only I could stop remembering

 

From Here to There, and Back Again

I found an antique door to match
The others upstairs and finally got it hung
In my 116 year old house
With some penache
 
Restoring something to its original
A cause celebre, or chasing after the wind
Says King Solomon. Nonetheless
I’m looking up
 
The neck muscles groan a little
And a headache comes on, but the tangles
of the hammock don’t keep me from
Rocking a while
 
With another cup of coffee
Remembering what responsibility was
When the kids were young, when rocking
Was not for me
 
It would all be capacious, this space of life
Except that the man on the internet cautions
To carry a load heavy enough
To hurt a little
 
Even if you’re taking up a burden
From here to there, and back again
To fog the lense, the omniscient lense
Of your pathos
 
And so, I have hung a door
With precision, drilled the latch strike, refurbished
The dusty innards of the mortise lock to click snug
Shut like 1905
 
If only I could stop remembering
The laughter, going back and forth to Minneapolis
And the amazing smile of the woman
I have loved