Spring Cleaning – A Poem by Rowe Williams

Hello all, sorry it’s been awhile since I posted. I was distracted for a while from writing. Anyway, I’m glad to say one of my poems was accepted by Vita Brevis to be in their online poetry magazine. Click here to see it. I’m planning to start posting again, so expect to see more from me. Thanks for checking it out.

It's an early spring morning,
but it already smells like summer.
A faint scent of dry, dying grass
and clear sky.

Four men struggle, half-heartedly,
in that male tradition of moving mildly
heavy furniture. And this day, I
am one of those men.

We all know, from some instinct or past
lesson, to show no sign of struggle.
"What, this thing? Practically a feather."
I, too, follow the rules of this ritual.

But a light sweat beads on my
skin to betray me. Not enough to
drip, just cling to my round
face, in little drops, cooling me
as they vaporize into that clear sky,
leaving behind the salts
of my existence.

My father, disentangling the last
needed strap to confine the last
piece of furniture says, unironically,
"Free at last."