It's Been Eight Months

I lent you my drill on a Sunday in March You said you had one shelf — just one shelf to attach I said "sure, no rush, bring it back when you're through" And I've regretted that promise more than I knew It's been eight months, Dave Eight months I've seen you in the driveway seventeen times We've talked about the weather, your kids, my vines We've covered the election, the HOA, the rain And not once — not once — has the drill come up again I've hinted — oh, I've hinted with surgical precision I said "I need to hang a shelf" — you said "great decision" Then you went inside With my drill Inside your house I want my drill back but I can't say the words Because asking breaks the code of of the non-confrontational 'burbs Where lending means forever and no one keeps the score And bringing it up means you don't love thy neighbor anymore So I smile when I see you, I wave from the drive Eight months with my drill, Dave — and we're both still alive I've thought about leaving a note on your door I've drafted fourteen versions, maybe more "Dear Dave, regarding the item on temporary loan Per our verbal agreement, the ownership was never postponed" I threw them all away — too formal, too much I'm not sending a legal brief over a household clutch I just want my drill Is that too much to ask? [pause] [Greek chorus] (Yes. Apparently. It is.) The drill is mine — my initials on the case I engraved them for a situation with exactly your face Where a man won't say what a man is clearly thinking: That a temporary loan shouldn't last while the year is shrinking So I check the garage where it used to sit And I tell myself it's fine — and I almost believe it Here's what I won't tell you, Dave I don't even need the drill right now I finished every project in the house I bought a second one — yeah, the same model It's in the garage This isn't about the drill anymore This is about the principle The principle that when a man lends another man A twenty-volt lithium-ion cordless drill with two speed settings And a carrying case He expects it back Eventually It's been eight months, Dave Eight months It's been eight months and maybe that's fine Maybe the drill is a thread between your house and mine A reason to knock, a reason to stay Connected to the guy three doors away It's been eight months and I want it back But I want you as a neighbor more than that I still want it back though It's been eight months And twelve days But who's counting