Just two of you I need to lend a hand,
First to measure the rope from base to base
Then here along the wall and here to where
The rope is tied around the ceiling post.
Careful there, because all must be exact.
The tale is always in the tape you know,
Just an inch or so, an inch here or there
Even one and it would be a different story.
But we can rule that out because here
Is the can he must have stood upon.
He was often seen here from time to time,
Once it seems to look for work I’m told,
And must have known the garage to be a quiet
Place, but still it doesn’t do a business good
For this sort of thing—everything is as it should
All looks typical enough, all is in order.
One last entry and my work here is done.
Thank you for your help now cut him down.

The way one last leaf
Upon a winter’s branch
Held by will alone
If not by chance

Had reminded me
of the coming cold
Branches will break too
Before I grow old.

Through cracks in old cabin wood
The sun’s eclipse ran across my floor
Like a garland of little golden smiles
Across the table and up the wall
As if they meant to give me call.
Perhaps the sun was all the whiles
Trying to show me something more
Than any store bought telescope could?