Ten-Finger Exercises

wonder where this went?

I posted this yesterday, but no sign of it tonight. So here it is again.


“Look At All Those Leaves!”

When she opened up her door and saw
the leavings of the night’s forceful wind,
her voice was sharp and sad.
“Look at all those leaves!” she said.
She knew the work that it would take
to rake them all. It wasn’t her first fall,
and maybe not her last.

She put on Jack’s old coat and leather gloves
and went out to the storage shed to get her tools:
two rakes, one’s handle would come loose as she
worked with it a while, and she didn’t
know which one. It hadn’t been repaired,
just stuck back on and hung again
beside the other on a nail.

The leaves were bright against the neutral sky.
She tied an old plaid scarf beneath her chin and
started at the east side of the lawn,
head down into the chill. A neighbor’s boy
came pedaling up the street into her drive.
“You need some help?” he asked.
“It sure does look that way,” she said, and smiled

and handed him the extra rake. His mother
probably had sent him. He headed for the far
side of the yard and pulled in heaps of leaves
with strong fast strokes, advancing his pile deftly,
nearing hers. His rusty rake head did come off,
but each time he would jam it on again and
keep on working. Near the end

she said she’d better go get bags and went
inside. He followed her, breathing on his
hands to warm them. Even though they still
had work to do, and she hadn’t planned
to make it until they were through, she
offered him a cup of cocoa and she
poured one for herself.

Wrapping up again against the cold,
they headed down the steps. The boy
gazed at the pile in awe and whistled.
“Look at all those leaves!” he said
and launched himself headlong into its heights.
She scowled, then changed her mind and said instead,
“ Maybe I should try it—one more time.”