the old sunset

you reach
a point in life where

there is nothing left
to need or want.

it's all there.

stuffed into closets
and attics

laundry rooms,

shelved and boxed in
garages where the cars
never go.

two of everything it seems.

but then
you look at your list
of dearly

departed friends. growing
longer with each

old sunset.

you could use a few more
of them.