Simpler

And just that quickly, life is simpler.

Hours spent looking at tiny photos
of houses and apartments online,
ads for overpriced junkers
owners think they'll cultivate
as cash cows. Compelled to search,
accommodating rush prospective buyers
requested. Not exactly "check is in the mail" time
but terms were agreed upon, negotiations done,
handshakes genuine, time to think
about retaping all those flattened boxes,
maybe start with books.
Depending on decisions,
they'd have to stay in storage, 
out of luck if need arose
to go look something up.

Then today, polite decline.
Time spent checking addresses,
calling landlords, walking through
the cool house on the Drive-- I almost
stepped right through a landing to
the attic. "Too much work," was
David's final word, but wouldn't it
be grand to live right on the water?
In my mind I saw the little boat we'd buy
so we could paddle out a bit.
Time we won't get back. Looking
out at March's calendar, back
to normal now with only ordinary
overpacked days and nights, no
overpacked boxes that could strain
a buddy's back who offered
help. What had seemed hectic before,
compared to what it would be
had we had to move,
is now transformed, taking on a lazy feel,
whole month of nothing much (in truth,
though, quite a lot).
With one short email, we're
saved hours of work, more time
to savor home before another name's
stuck on the mailbox. Some say
we appreciate what we have,
only when it's gone. I'm not that way.
Appreciate, yes, but willing to let go.
Not everything or everyone,
but some. It comes from seeing
people go, saying goodbyes,
closing the door before turning
and opening wide another.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013