The Wait

The better job opening up
A lottery win large enough to
pay off the mortgage with some left over

Sooner or later the foreman everyone hates
will be transferred or promoted
Sooner or later the kids will be out on their own

When we can afford
When they finally fix
When the insurance we’re owed

What shimmers ahead in the calendar
is the Dodge extended cab pickup
with faded blue paint, dent in the tailgate

though it still closes, and weeds
now higher than the hubcaps
that was a good deal, surprisingly low mileage

that’s going to be fixed and running again
once there’s time to get to it
or that a brother-in-law asked to park here

while he was up north working in the patch
then never returned for it
Sell it, he wrote, Keep the dough,

but he’s never signed the paperwork
so the truck can’t even be
hauled away to the crusher