Let us lug in more stuff
Storage man mumbles hi
First year by in a huff
Second year wonder why
Save dad’s lured fishing hat
Mom’s torn wedding picture
Worn collar from Push cat
Who slept till you pushed her
Oily third baseman mitt
Broken wooden snow sled
Clothes that may someday fit
Fodder for wishful heads
Dancing cousin’s red dress
Army mess kit no less
Cloth prayer book to the Lord
Mirror off traded Ford
Ski slope scenes where we met
Closed racetrack loser bets
Distant aunt’s bowling ball
Hunter pal’s dull duck call
Don’t toss street-hockey stick
When brother was so quick
Taillight from big guzzler
Grandpa’s silver lighter
Daughter’s doll she would hold
Baby she could console
Torn letters never sent
Penciled ideas fervent
Brother’s vinyl platters
Somehow this all matters


Carry On

Quonset hut corrugated metal
Softer than cherry blossom petal
Always kept floor mopped clean
Giving me time to dream
Back then dad pushed plow behind oxen
War made us sore Quiet lets some soar
Dusty roads tar paved now
Buildings air-condition

Hills were once free to swim or fish in
Now expensive to rent a week in
Relatives stay loyal
Toil improves soil
Our Quonset hut is rustier
Again this spring blossoms waft perfume
Grandpa walks rice water
Worker life must resume


M.J. Sullivan is a poet living in Keansburg, New Jersey.

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