(for Melody)

One day we will wake up clear-headed, refreshed after an excellent night’s sleep,

turn to face the day, and find well-scrubbed pots, cutlery in the right drawers,

and dishes in gleaming stacks on shelves.

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One day the gutters will be clean, the deck swept and stained, the grass

green and short, plants watered, the garden weeded, the camping equipment aired,

the matches and sleeping bags dry,

the hole in the screen door patched.

One day we will have caught up with the laundry.

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Now that we have all the right tools for the job, we can put them away for the last time.

We have returned all our empties and disposed of our garbage in an ethical manner,

answered our emails and paid every bill:

in short, all the chores are finished.

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The last five pounds are lost, and the bloodwork came back negative.

Our pets have had all their shots, and our children, who visit often,

are healthy; they are happy and successful in every area of their lives.

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We can’t remember the source of a single argument,

so we dropped all our grudges and found that the bridges we burned     

had been rebuilt using sturdier construction materials.

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The car waits, shining, bodywork finally fixed, serviced on schedule,

tires correctly inflated, fluids replete,

ready for any journey.

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One day, all the broken things will be mended.

This appeared in Geist 116 as part of a suite titled All the Broken Things, along with Looming and Traffic Reports in Strange Cities.