I rolled the trash bin to the curb, proud of
myself for managing the quotidian tasks.
Then I remembered trash day’s Wednesday,
so I rolled it hangdog back to the house.
Oh well, better luck tomorrow I guess.
I rolled my mother’s trash bin to the curb
yesterday at the conclusion of my visit.
Her trash day’s today. I get some things right.
As we sat at her kitchen table she cried
talking about my dad, and the loneliness.
She said, “John, I guess that’s just how it is.”
I’d made a Sam’s Club run for her—her
firstborn magi bearing gifts of toilet paper,
trash bags, Cascade pods, and Nexium.
Supplies to last a widow woman for weeks.
I helped her put them away, a place for
everything, then took the trash to her curb.
On the walk back to her house I thought even
the house looks lonely. I guess that’s just how it is.