Who will get it? –
that mahogany chest of drawers
I built back in the seventies.
I see it every day and every day
that question lurks in my shrinking mind.

Most of our “give-aways” have been given
but a few remain to tease me every day.

My remains will be ashes
when the decision is made
for that chest’s next whereabouts.

And there are a few other things
we’ll be forced to yield
to the decisions of folks
who may be slightly sad
when they make them.

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.