Thursday, April 26, 2012

HIS UNFINISHED HOUSE THERE



HIS UNFINISHED HOUSE THERE



...But for/ travel, scarcity. I am/ leaving room. I am/ willing away all that/ I do not need.---Hannah Stephenson, “Traveling Light”, The Storialist,  04-25-12



He said there was the old Bulova watch
hanging on the nail behind the door
in his room. It still works. It is yours.


He willed away a relic he did not need,
there was no pawnshop there anyway.
His turned down thumb belied his smile.


There was always his other word for away.
When I go there, I will be there awhile,
and there is no coming back there. None
.


He looked away then, pointing to a frame
on the hospital wall, Our unfinished house,
finish it. It is yours. But shelter everyone
.


He gave me time when there was none
left to finish his house so he could go there.
There was nothing he needed there. Nothing.




---Albert B. Casuga
04-26-12




This is Poem #26 in my poem-a-day project to celebrate National Poetry Month (April 2012).

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