Upkeep

Repair

For a mind wrapped in insulation 

somewhere up in the attic, I sure looked 

like I was listening, heard her well enough 

from where she stood planted 

at the sink, steam rising from the rinse

as she explained her deepening sense 

that love these days is coming down 

to folded laundry, vacuumed rugs. 

After dinner I left my plate 

and laced my boots to clamber up 

the hatch, descending only briefly 

to tell her about the sharp pitch 

of the roof where the truss needs 

repair, how while I can see what needs 

to happen, it’s like I’d have to shrink

somehow, diminish myself, to actually get there.