The Meaning of Things
The
things on my shelf
are there
for a reason.
I can
look at them one by one
and remember
the seasons of life.
A
colorful oil lamp from my neighbor.
A gravy boat from the church
I went
to as a child.
An
antique metal pitcher from an aunt.
Two pink
and blue vases
from
when the kids were born.
A
ceramic mountain man I made my dad.
A glass
clock from my mom.
A ruby
red decanter from my sister.
A wooden
cross from
I don’t
know where,
but I
know what it means.
The
whole lot of them
aren’t
worth much materially,
but they
mean a lot to me.
Will they
to someone hereafter?
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