Do It Yourself

For one summer, it was new
Enough that it was enough
For everyone to be there,

In the new, just-finished house,
Specially designed and built
From scratch, all accessible,

With fire doors and heated floors,
A bedroom for everyone,
Three bathrooms, a laundry room,

A fireplace in a brick wall,
A living room, dining room,
And, of course, a custom-built

Kitchen. Even the dark yard
Gnarly with tree roots, seemed grand.
For one year, the five of them,

Ages five to forty-five,
Had no reason to leave home.
The children played in the stream

With their new neighborhood friends.
The mother planted gardens
Ambitious with strawberries,

Leafy dark green vegetables,
Squashes, corn, and tomatoes,
Almost as if she were back

On the farm where she grew up.
The father came home from work
At his custom cabinet shop,

Proud of everything he’d done,
The whole design of the place,
The smart angles of the house,

But most of all, all the space.
He owned actual acres.
The restlessness came later.