Nothing seems to fit through the door
of my daughter’s room anymore.What we easily carried upstairs
twenty years ago gets stuckgoing back through the doorway,
or wedged tight in the stairwell.So we have to back up and unscrew
the legs from her dresser,tap out nails holding the side and top
panels of the cedar wardrobethat I’m sure came up in one piece.
The narrow curving stairsof our old farmhouse not a problem
for her fiancée, who takes themtwo at a time, and, unlike me—
who’s been twice caught at the back windowstaring at the yellowing walnut—
never leaves the room empty-handed.
Copyright © 2017 by John Bargowski
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission
John Bargowski has received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and New Jersey State Council on the Arts. His book Driving West on the Pulaski Skyway (Bordighera Press, 2012) was selected for the Bordighera Prize. He lives with his family in the Skylands of northwestern New Jersey.
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