Japanese White Eye, Zosterops japonicus, juvenile |
Soon everything on the farm will be gone. Already
the tractor, lumber, Mike’s chair, a cast-iron pot
have gone for good. Customer cars juggle in & out
of parking slots. Keikis call me Auntie, lay
their heads in my lap before marking the white sofa
with black-bottomed feet, scattering books I might
not keep. Ciao to hand-painted plates I brought
from Italy to Cali to Carolina to Hawaii. Aloha
to the double-bladed axe, to ratchet-action loppers
cane knives & the chainsaw once the bidding war
was won. Sold are the food-grade buckets
once filled with kilos of nuts, rice, & beans
to feed us through Y2K. Now goes my chair.
The comforter off our bed. But not my knives.
Ditto the camera, shoelaces, shaving mirror, Mike.