Knows It All

We bought land from a guy named Chance.

He promised, among other things, to send

someone to clear a spot for the house.

Quite by chance

it was Roy who came.

Tall.    Lanky.    Quiet.

We told him what we wanted

waved our arms around

pointed here and there

used more words than needed

to describe our dream location.

Roy considered.

Looked left, toward the road.

Looked right, up into the woods.

Rubbed his chin a bit.

      Finally…

Why the hell you want to build 

down here on the flats?

Go up there by the ledge, against the trees.

Look down on the (currently scrub, pricker,

sapling filled) meadow.

We stilled.

Looked toward the road.

Looked into the woods.

Looked at each other.

We had known Roy all of five minutes

but simply as that, we leaped.

        yes

Every day for the next thirty years

that one chance meeting defined

a friendship and our daily walks.

Down from the house,

past the (now clover and daisy filled)

meadow, along the swale and

wetlands, around the boulder.

Every day, for thirty years we said

        yes

you were right.

       (for Mary Ellen)