object dissonance

what to keep, or throw away,
is not always easy.

how many shoes can
one person
own
and not use,
stacked in a closet

full, books, rakes, tools.
and that
machine to wash the house,

what year was that ever used.
some people keep
everything.

giving a value to each.
attaching to it some memory
ticket.

holding on for dear life
to what it meant,
fearing its absence
would be the end of things.

as if it never happened.

she had his guitar, his book,
his pictures
all within hands reach.

her son's first diaper
stuck in a large baggie.

a ribbon or bow. photographs
by the hundreds.
a patch for his eye, a book marker
signed.

a magazine he scribbled
on. a pen from
a hotel in St. Pete.
a hair brush. a glass
from some island. a half
empty bottle of

a soured red wine.
his voice mails. full of pain
and tears.
she loved that the most.