Space
By
Martha Patterson
As cozy as it is
To be surrounded by my things
Old magazines,
My books,
That tatty purple sweater
I love nothing better
Than releasing,
To toss unused, unread things,
The old, the stale, the damaged
And move on into “space.”
Today I cleaned the fridge –
Took bags out to the curb,
And felt renewed and free
From that detritus,
All that trashy stuff.
But I had regrets –
That purple sweater
That my mother loved
And gave me on my birthday –
Now it’s gone forever.
Why couldn’t I have saved
One last memento from her?
She died years ago,
And I won’t know that top again,
Folded in my drawers.