Firstly, and to my surprise
it gets me out of bed, mornings.
Planning the work—all this trim
cutting, paint, glue. What to do
while waiting for things to dry.
I wish I’d known sooner
not to keep these projects
out of sight, out of mind (spiders
gliding between rough-ridged
roof and basement window).
No, put it smack in the library
incongruously turquoise and yellow
in the mellow, bookish front room.
Cover the writing table with stuff
like paintbrushes, sandpaper, tape.
We said we would. We will.
From piles of unlabeled wood
like any noble endeavor, bit by bit
imperfect. You need to cheer
each day’s slight progress now
that we’ve stopped pretending
you care about construction.
Waiting for the decorating
you are here for color consults
to tell me when I have blue in my hair.