This morning, Ethical ELA's prompt asks us to write a poem about cleaning! I have been doing a lot of "deep" cleaning getting rid of clothing and things I no longer need. Yet this prompt somehow makes me reflect on my cousins who lost all their "things" in the California fires last fall. This poem is dedicated to them and their experience, a reminder that it's the memories we make that matter, the rest is just "things."
At their magnificent home, high on a hill,
The old Victrola
Sat ready to host one of the old records that
Sat in my grandparents garage long before
The even older baby buggy sat,
A reminder of when we were little, it
Sat sadly for months in Grandma's attic until we
Sat baby dolls, stuffed animals in it.
The old books, magazines, notecards,
Hand made and special, not ever to be seen again
Sat in boxes and bins
Sat on shelves waiting, not sure what for.
While near their enormous garden,
Hosted lovingly grown fruits and flowers, we
Sat savoring the company, the memories we
Sat, savoring each other, not the things.
Which were all gone in a flash of light, rolling
Down that hill last November,
But not the memories.
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