She sold her country house today.
Wave goodbye to Bennett Creek,
the garden, two good wells
and Lois’ bones under the apple tree.
No more bob cats crossing the lawn.
No more barefoot children in summer
splashing beside the green hand pump,
cheeks sticky, dodging yellow jackets.
Say goodbye to the gardener
in his creaky red truck,
beer in hand on a hot day.
It's time. It's past time.
Pack things carefully,
number the boxes,
lock the door
and move on.
Mom...great news. Wonderful.