the empty rooms

the empty
rooms, hollowed
out of
things
less important
now,
now that walking
is difficult
as is
keeping track
of what day
it might be.
the movers, young
and strong
with muscled
backs, sweat
on their brows
made quick work
of the things
you owned,
but never owned,
just leased.
the chair you sat
on. the lamp
that shone
upon the pages
of your favorite
book.
how you wish your
hands
were on that book
once more,
as new.
as new as you
were when you read
it and couldn't
put it down.