WORK

 

He had been working

In the yard

Raking up needles from

The giant Sequoia

 

He had planted the tree

Fifty years before

After removing it from

A gallon can and

Finding a temporary

Place in the yard

For it to grow

 

Now, having never moved

It was an iconic

Specimen easily seen

From a distance

 

We joked that he

Would move it soon

 

That would never happen

And meanwhile it’s strong

Roots bedeviled him as

They pushed up the driveway surface

 

He fell and hit his head

Which, on top of the accelerating

Dementia meant a trip to the

Hospital was necessary

 

As I walked him from the

House to the car

He grabbed the edge of door

And held on with all his strength

 

I pried his fingers off the door jam

He must have known he was leaving

Home for the last time

 

Later that day I found

A small pile of needles he

Had accumulated before he fell

I placed them in a bag and brought

Them home.

 

They were evidence of the last

Work he performed.

 

Tonight I worked in my yard

And thought of him

 

The needles remain in a bag

In my home