POETRY – Movings


While I know that it is difficult enough for me to maintain a
semblance of life within the confines of these walls,
I cannot help but wonder about the lives
lived in the houses around mine.

Tonight a moving van sits in the driveway across the street.
Soon I will muster the courage to cross over and
ask if she is leaving.

I know that the family beside us is moving.

These transitions of my neighbors leave me
thinking over our years together,
whether I have truly loved them.
And whether they know it.

Sometimes I think that loving my neighbor is
harder than loving my enemy.
Life passes by so quickly that it seems like
there are few opportunities for real connection.

One moment I look out my window and see
shadows carrying possessions.
I blink and they have moved into my memory to
join the growing restless crowd residing there.

Keith Lyndaker


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