my townhouse neighbor sits in her lawn chair awaiting her children
who drive up in their shiny caddy to take her grocery shopping.. she
used to drive an oldsmobile its vinyl top deteriorated by twenty
years of sun without lotion so it flapped in the breeze its paint
faded I climb on the townhouse roof and pull the needles from her and
my gutters sometimes and her roof shingles are loose the gutter in
the back gone (I worry the rotting of the wood beneath will spread to
our side, or the sparrows that nest in the hole, or other creatures,
will find their way into my attic behind the rot on her side.. she
forgets my name she even forgets I am her neighbor of a decade if we
meet away from the house or I come to her door even though I shovel
her driveway and walk, sweep them in the summer, and once she
complained in a note about the needles when they lay there a day or
two, that she had nearly fallen on them when it rained and I reminded
her (in a note)then that I take care of things - who did she think
did it? one of her three wealthy sons? they had never been on her
roof, i would venture, and if I miss shovelling her drive, the boy
across the street does it.. no, they drop their children with her,
and move on, except for that once a week shopping trip now that she
can't drive. they store their antique Packard in her garage, on rare
occasions come by to tinker... She apologized to me in person, at my
door, which was a shock, to see her there- and brought me cookies she
had made, and I was a little ashamed but not just for me. She takes
care of the polling sheets at the elementary school on election day,
but my face doesn't register with her.. her husband died soon after
we moved in and I wonder at her existance now but she always has a
smile and a hello for me when she sees me in my territory..
Sign GuestbookView Guestbook
