Moving 2018

I wander through the rooms

as if I were a ghost

choosing this and that.

What to take, what to leave

what I will need, what holds meaning.

But to me alone

and not to those who follow.

A book – read yesterday

to read perhaps tomorrow.

A book – the small child kept throughout the years

and that I am loath to part with.

A book by an unforgotten love.

How difficult to live in the now

knowing that tomorrow none of this will matter.

Perhaps I can store what I hold dear

in the closet of forgotten things

hoping that someone sometime will open the cupboard

and remember.

3 thoughts on “Moving 2018

  1. I find “the closet of forgotten things” one of your best images. When we discussed it before, you even told me and Margaret that there was a poetic Italian word for this, which is music to the ears of a hoarder like me: dimenticatoio. How can one not be in love with a language like that? Or with a writer who so viscerally understands this concept?

    Liked by 2 people

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