One Dollar

The Ones That Matter


End of the week, Saturday, cloudy, cool, but dry
as I load the first of our possessions
in the back of my little blue truck.
There, face down, lying flat in the street
a one dollar bill. Happy prosperity!

Twenty five loads later, two streets over
two streets back, it’s all moved;
the content of our lives on this day.
It was time to say goodbye, son and daughter
with me, a one way trip to our new place.

I had donated all my furniture and things
one year ago, when I married the women.
We came to her house, a happy blend at first
turned to mental repossession near the end
for them. We reconstructed their space first,
set up beds, fill dressers, arrange belongings.
They are pleased to each have their own room.

The rest of the house is empty. I didn’t have much,
one wood chair, three pots, some mismatched silverware
and dishes, my music collection, a full bookshelf,
and no bed. My children safe, warm, fed, and rich
with love until my last day. The house will fill;
for now a single dollar in a frame, hung on the wall.





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