I'd offer to help, but...

I'm not sure if it's his brother
or an in-law who's doing it
but someone has been taking
my recently deceased neighbor's
slacks and dress shirts
out to his garage
all morning.

Every twenty minutes or so
he takes a smoke break on the steps
looking out across the lawn
at what the buried man had built.
I wonder if he knows
that I know
what he's thinking.

It's a task that'll help the widow cope.

I hope I find a friend like that.
I hope they throw the clothes away.
Donation's overrated.

He's out there now, taking short drags
and talking to himself.
It's forty degrees, but he's wearing short sleeves.
The bald spot's slowly growing.
He's wondering who's next.
He just caught me staring.