98poems/hislife

HIS LIFE

Daily, or at least
when we meet on the path,
he tells me a little more
about his life,
of how his grandparents
hung wet sheets to keep cool,
of the house his grandmother
bought in Monterey,
without telling her husband.
And how he traded an investments job
for working with his hands.
He has reached that age,
when disappointments
– not so much regret,
as the fear of regret –
seem to crowd the rooms
where he sits, feeling
life has always pushed him
away from opportunity.
He bought here cheap,
and can’t tell how
to get out,
or if he wants to.

4/27/98