yard sale 

each april was a celebration. 
we undid our spaces. culled our rooms
for value. i carry a bookend, 
a lamp, & a stuffed giraffe
to the front yard. we're setting out blankets
for the smaller items & dad is pushing
the old mantel out to the grass.
uncle rich manages to lug the piano 
from his side of our house into the yard.
he presses the out of tune keys. 
he doesn't know how to play. he asks dad
how much he thinks the instrument might be worth.
he doesn't think it's worth much because
it's got chipped keys & water damage.
everything is worth less than you want it to be.
my brother brings down a hamper full of 
toy sharks. he explains that each is worth
no less than two dollars. he cries
& says he doesn't want to sell them.
i swallow any sentiments i have 
for the good of the yard sale. cars pass by 
all of them too fast. i always imagined
more people stopping than who end up
actually coming to look at our items. 
these people don't appreciate who much of our lives
we've put out here, i'd think.
i stand at the end of our driveway 
& wave at every passing car. i stay out there all day,
sitting on a plastic folding chair while dad
searches the house for more to add. he brings out
the fish tank. he brings out the stone cross
from the wall of the kitchen. he brings
shutters & the faucets off sinks.
he says we need more if we're going
to catch anyone's eye. i join him. 
i take apart my bunk bed & yank clothing
off hangers. a mound of our belongings.
i price each item in my head.
i tell dad i'm asking only for 
reasonable amounts--that i'm not
going to be greedy. a man 
pulls his red car to the side of the road.
he looks nervous as he sifts through
all our belongings. we are too eager 
& we scare him away.
as he drives off & we remark to each other
that maybe he would have stayed if he'd seen
the coat wrack or the lamp. yes those
are beautiful. yes those were ours once
before we emptied the house.
i tell dad that i want to make just
a few dollars 
& he says that's all he wants too.
the day passes & we contemplate 
cutting the tree in the yard down 
to sell the wood. we might try
laying on the blankets ourselves.
we consider the house behind us
& if it's worth keeping.
dad sells the mantel & helps a man
load it into his pick up truck.
we cry with relief. dad gives me 
five dollars from the sale. the sun starts
setting. bright orange. dad pretends
to buy an old stuffed dinosaur of mine.
i thank him for his business.