July 16, 2011

The many old possessions of my boys and me
sat waiting in the driveway for new homes.
Piece by piece they went off in the arms of someone new.
The pig-tailed 4-year-old took the mylar wig.
A collector of memorabilia the imperfect frames.
The ugly old table even found a new home.
The space heater, the many bandanas, the 
shells collected at the beach, two old frying 
pans, the Radio Flyer wagon without a handle, 
the broken chair I’d planned to fix, the moon shoes,
the enamel kitchen table like the one 
my grandmother had, the baskets. 
Don’t you want these metal chairs? I ask.
No?  Well, if you change your mind
and come back later, you might find them
on the curb for free!
All these things we once felt we needed
crowded into my basement are now gone.  
I am light and spacious.  Without 
this burden I feel as if I might fly.