Possibilities
by Linda Pastan
Today I drove past a house
we almost bought and heard
through the open window music
made by some other family.
We don't make music ourselves, in fact
we define our differences
by what we listen to.
And what we mean by family
has changed since then
as we grew larger then smaller again
in ways we knew would happen
and yet didn't expect.
Each choice is a winnowing,
and sometimes at night I hear
all the possibilities creak open
and shut like screendoors
in the wind,
making an almost musical
accompaniment
to what I know
of love and history.
we almost bought and heard
through the open window music
made by some other family.
We don't make music ourselves, in fact
we define our differences
by what we listen to.
And what we mean by family
has changed since then
as we grew larger then smaller again
in ways we knew would happen
and yet didn't expect.
Each choice is a winnowing,
and sometimes at night I hear
all the possibilities creak open
and shut like screendoors
in the wind,
making an almost musical
accompaniment
to what I know
of love and history.
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