he would learn his barn had been built
at drip-line, meaning the edge of his land
as had two of the neighbors’ garages

a custom no longer permitted, don’t worry
“we’re grandfathered in,” his Lady of Hanging Baskets
explained, “sure, we’ll sign a variance, if they ask”

theirs was a decent draw, with few fences
(note the tall barricade two Irish wolfhounds draped over)
and a solitary wandering mongrel

proximity, he would learn, has dimensions
other than linear measure
shared esteem
of sound wines or the loan of a circular saw

will generate its own gravity and orbit
its own relative mass
in this unfolding

poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson


Home Maintenance 1For more home and garden poetry, click here.


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