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March 15, 2020

 

last Sunday we turned the clocks ahead

(one hour we wont see again

until the fall comes and we fall

back

into it)

and today, in a mid-Sunday evening

graced by a crisp late winter sky

we reap the harvest of that loss

dusks glorious blue surrounds us

even as late as eight oclock

 

spring is this week and summer is on its way

 

when spring has not yet fair begun

and summer yet a distant hope

we will have moved

back

into the home we rented out

for the eighteen years we were with Mom

 

the renovation is almost done

many good people did much hard work

(I finished the kitchen plumbing this weekend

no leaks this time

like there were when I capped the pipes)

well put in the drawers and shelves after

the counter comes in this week

and the next week we can move in

to a smaller house with larger windows

having worked on this move since the solstice

I anticipate its brightness

and the touch-up work to be done

before we turn the clocks

back

in the fall

 


Going Back
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

Copyright 2020

Each New Day A Miracle
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