"We are creations’/property, its particles, its clay” — Jane Kenyon, Winter Lambs
During the past three days, we unpacked
what we do not need. One life is gone.
Now we are selling what belonged
and what is left behind. Some is of little value,
even to a garage sale for a dime.
We give up what we have accumulated
over life. We leave behind a body
and it will break into particles,
combine with light and dust.
We return to red clay, earthward-bound,
merge with grass and nitrates,
unpacking one life for another.
Someone will miss us,
opening battered suitcases of memories.
They will open the latch
whenever they need it, and it begins again —
all of this coming and going.
Martin Willitts Jr is a retired Librarian. His poems appeared in Blue Fifth, Centrifugal Eye, Stone Canoe, Kentucky Review, Poppy Road Review, and many others. He has 11 full-length collections including "How to Be Silent" (FutureCycle Press, 2016) and forthcoming "Dylan Thomas and the Writer Shed" (FutureCycle Press, 2017).