mattresses, that lean
up against
the pole for pick up, tells
a story.
as does
the broken chair,
the plates and silver ware,
a child's doll
without clothes.
an ironing board.
all thrown to the curb
as if in a hurry
to change
directions, to get a new
life, to start over someplace
far from here.
it's artwork,
it's a poem, perhaps a novella
yet to be written.
it makes you pause,
it makes
you brake and wonder
about all
that you don't know.
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