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
