From outside,
everything’s the same,
hedges trimmed,
sand gathered in patio corners
to be scattered
by the leaf blower
later today.
I tend to think
of myself in the past,
not yet quite sure
of where I am,
stepping around
new patio furniture,
looking for a place
to rest in the shade.
I can tell
by shadows at noon
what season we’re in,
whether the chaise will be
cold to the touch
or too hot to handle.
I know where to sit
so I’ll be out of the wind,
what calls I must answer,
what texts I should send.
My wife sends a message,
wondering where I am,
if I know where
I’m going,
have even a clue
to where I’ve been.

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