Boxing Day July 21, 2o13

Sunday,
   Had to wait to post this until 12:10 am. Another one of those poems that started as a post on Facebook and turned into something a little more.

Boxing Day

 

I have your shadow locked up in the closet,

strung up by its graying hair

on a stiff, wire hanger.

It swings back and forth

like a giant oak leaf

every time I open the door

to check on it.

I should pick it up

by its scrawny, black neck,

toss it out with the other memories

clinging to the wooden shelves,

hiding in the brown packing boxes

you cleverly marked, "MINE!"

But like all things you, I'm afraid

to throw ‘em away.

I might need ‘em someday.

For… what? I haven't a clue.

—rrw o7-2o-13