Mary Dear
Jeff is a jewel.
Entering again that slim passage
Left of the behemoth stove
Narrow flight of thin tall pink wooden stairs
So steep my nose almost touches them
When mounting
Scaling Everest to reach the attic
Still dust. Still air. Quiet no movement
Taking my station by the long dead air conditioner
Thighs touching bedside
Awaiting he who brings the past into clear focus
Lightly displaying no wasted steps
Bring box. Open carefully. Look.
Lightly lift old dress 1880 from box.
“Wonderful”
Many moments of pleasured discovery
How can I be so fortunate?
Only so many moments are tolerable
In that hot still air
Before our need to breathe beckons us
Carefully down the cliff of stairs
Through swinging doors and the
Welcome circle of rooms
Once again to the glory of the front porch swing
Hallelujah