how often did he say
he needed to fix
the door.
the squeak when it opened,
the loose hinge.
screws turning out
over time.
the knob bent to where
a hand would push
or pull.
it needed paint.
fissured by sun,
and rain.
the gaps a half an inch
along the panels
letting light in.
how many times did he
smile and say.
I need to fix the door,
but never did.
so now you stand there.
setting
the screws, a bucket
of white paint
at your feet,
a can of oil for the hinges.
in hand.
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