What You Owe After

I borrowed it from Dave on Saturday.

Didn't return it until Wednesday.

Four days leaning against my fence,

handle still trembling a little

when I bumped it moving the recycling.

The shrub came out uglier than I planned.

The roots went further than I thought roots went—

three feet in every direction,

and the hole they left was wide and uneven,

edges soft and crumbling.

I stood there with the shovel

looking at what I'd done.

Nothing to put back.

Nothing ready to go in.

Just a hole in dry dirt

and a dead thing in a pile beside it

and the afternoon going on

around me like it had somewhere to be.

I leaned the shovel against the fence.

Went inside.

Came out the next three days

and looked at the hole

before I did anything else.

Took it back to Dave's on Wednesday.

Left it by the door. Didn't knock.