TRANSITIONS: A HAIKU

the movers have gone

boxes are flattened emptied

shelves begin to fill

we’ve begun anew

telling our stories on walls

each pot placed with care

books we loved were saved

they nestle beside others

we’ve yet to savor

the bed has been made

clothes with hopes hang in closets

we’ve pruned the others

our essential tools:

picture hooks hammers nails screws

internet service

last night we slept well

there were no sirens or horns

no urban bedlam

our windows face trees

a red-shouldered hawk soars past

she bids us welcome