Arnie Yasinski RENTING
This island is so much smaller
than the great Milky Way above,
flinging off bits and bobs
as it spirals into forever. We cling,
trying to make a new spot ours
for what time we have left.
We’d like to own but only rent
because of taxes and being too old
for a mortgage. Since we can’t sell,
for a Plan B, I scan Daft.ie to
keep up with what’s available,
having to up the maximum
we’ll pay to find something
acceptable. Walks from here
are good, scenic—easy jaunts
into the village, to the Forty Foot,
People’s Park and the new library,
with Killiney Hill a bit farther.
Though Europe’s close, travel’s
a dilemma—we’ve come so far,
it feels as if our grip on place
could easily be lost if we leave
for long. The building is safe—
gates and doors locked against
the unknown, but softer moments
conjure a field next door,
with horses to which I can
feed apples, then stroke
their tender noses, and watch
the colts run now and again.
Knowing the gardeners keep
the shrubs and flowers neater
than farmland, I still think
there should be a hill at the back
of a pasture, where we can
send the dog to nudge the sheep
back toward us. We don’t need
much perimeter, just a place
to stake a claim, stroll around,
know what is ours.
Arnie Yasinski is a retired college administrator and occasional English teacher living in Ireland. He has published a number of poems in U.S. poetry journals and recently his first collection, Proposition, in Ireland with 21st Century Renaissance. He is currently putting together a second collection.