2003\14years

Our fourteenth anniversary,
you sit at your computer
reading automotive sites.
After oatmeal we will take
your car in for a new engine –
two years older than us,
two hundred thousand miles plus.
I can’t ride in it,
it’s so dirty I choke.
You use your disposable culture defense,
although you waste a lot,
to protect your hoarding tendencies.
Ours is a utility bond,
things to buy, repair, maintain.
You keep, I maintain. Floors sealed,
tablecloths squeezed with lemon juice
sitting in the sun to remove stains,
hand-me-down furniture
we have built our life with.
Lately I have been eliminating
things I didn’t choose,
contemplating the difference
between found object and trash,
defining it as love and joy.
Where does that leave us,
where does that leave us?
The only anniversary card
we receive seems to admonish,
“Happiness begins with loving hearts.”
Where does that leave us?

4/30/03