If you want a closer view, click on the first photo to enlarge all.
It’s all part and parcel of what I’ve been repressing—
one of those hidden vices I should have been addressing.
All those dingy corners filled with useless things.
Wondering how much happiness each hoarded object brings.
How can I glide through life carrying such a pack?
It must impede my progress with all that on my back.
There must be a reason a turtle has a shell
that enables all he glides through to slide off him as well.
He doesn’t amass fortune or any worldly thing.
Each day he starts anew to see what it might bring.
Perhaps in my next life I’ll be less of a hoarder.
and in the life I’m finishing I’ll be a better sorter.
One pile for donations, another I will sell.
Another, objects for old friends I know will love them well.
One pile for Yolanda and one for Pasiano.
Old pictures for my sister to put on her piano.
Rings for all my nieces and earrings for my friends.
When it comes to shoes, the pile never ends.
When it is all sorted, the clothes all hung on racks,
knickknacks on the tables and records piled in stacks,
I’ll open up garage doors and let the masses in
to sort through all the boxes and plow through every bin.
And when the weekend’s over—the chaos and the din,
I’ll start amassing more and start the process all again!