Just Down The Hall

Written
1992

 Take the stapler and the scotch tape dispenser.

Those pictures go

     and I would like the leather chair.

I can do without the bookshelf.

 I will leave the computer table

      and the coat rack.

My files will have to go

      down the hall.  

Don't forget my coffee cup

      and desk trinkets.

And I guess that is all we need to move. 

Moving offices is a mixture

      of the sadness of a lost past

      the happy promises of the future.

A four decade career means 

       changing offices many times.

I close my eyes and try to recall each one.

From the desk in the back of a class room

      to the one in the hall

      of the old Temp building.

Then the thrill of an office

      in the new faculty building.

I remember the pride that then came

     with a suite of offices

     and a second one across campus.

Each move the end of a chapter

     of a professional life. 

And now this move I greet

      like the last chapters of a good book.

Too much enjoyed to be finished.

I can remember more moves

     than I can anticipate.

Each book and file has a unique meaning to me

      so some will be tossed out.

I have fear for what will be lost.

What ego greed to want my meaning

      willed, inherited

      and appreciated by the next generation.

The walls of my old office will never

      never to the new tenant the dialogue

      of the plays that were performed on that stage.

The pictures are gone leaving only a nail hole

      to irritate the new occupant.

Life passages marked

      by the moves up and down the hall.

 

Notes
When I retired I went to shared office space for a while. At recall I soon had several offices on the campus here and in Fresno. Offices now seem distant and foreign