Helping My Daughter Move into Her First Apartment
This is all I am to her now:
a pair of legs in running shoes,
two arms strung with braided wire.
She heaves a carton sagging with CDs
at me and I accept it gladly, lifting
with my legs, not bending over,
raising each foot high enough
to clear the step. Fortunate to be
of any use to her at all,
I wrestle, stooped and single-handed,
with her mattress in the stairwell,
saying nothing as it pins me,
sweating, to the wall. Vacuum cleaner,
spiny cactus, five-pound sacks
of rice and lentils slumped
against my heart: up one flight
of stairs and then another,
down again with nothing in my arms.
This was incredibly moving, Felix – thank you for sharing! As much as I appreciate the literary turns of a good poem, it’s rare that one rouses some deep emotion for me. This one did.Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go call my mom.
chris (August 26, 2009 at 10:32 am)