every home has that one drawer
filled with stuff that doesn’t get used
but just might one day be useful
its more than that
sock drawers with socks that don’t get worn
t shirts from places you just can’t throw away
more clothes
clogging up space
& you try one day to get rid
end up sitting on the floor
surrounded by things that once meant
getting caught by memories
& the wise people tell you to get rid
this will clear space in your head
instead it is wading through the mud
of your life history
these photo’s
those bits of tatty jewellery
invitations to weddings
funeral service cards
to throw seems a betrayal
& yet?
to keep is to befuddle the senses
keep out newer memories
and of course I think of dead rooms
flats, apartments, houses
I’ve walked out of
with just a bag of clothes
a few things necessary to start over again
I’m not sure I’m that brave anymore
as I sit on the floor
choosing which mementoes
I can consign to the dustbin
of history
which clothes I can hand to charity
& which are keepsakes to hold memory
in place & time


One thought on “trash?

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