Moving

MOVING 

If we did, of course, we would take 

you with us, at least this you 

and this me, if you catch what I mean. 

We’d have to leave here, you 

understand, someone waiting in the bathtub

for a towel, someone else with a paint trowel

still wet in his hands and big plans

to tackle the basement come spring, full

of the many people who did and said things

in this place of saying and doing. 

We got the biggest van they have,

but from what I can gather 

there’s no bed big enough for all 

the selves who lived here once,

those ageless ones who put

their foot down and refuse to leave.