Poetry Magazine
Cleaning an Attic
The day had finally come
when everything there
seemed misplaced or out of place
as an ex's box of things. The unused
beside the irreplaceable, the easy-
to-assemble uncomplicated now
by disuse. Some hand
of randomness leaving behind
its lampshades stained
like ancient maps, its ladders
still climbing upward, and enough
old tools to restart a world.
Every drawer filled
with the other half of things.
Everything care embraced,
and held once as new,
left too ragged for another winter
to wear. Its ring of keys
dangling by a nail
for rooms left long ago. And whatever
I said I'd never forget
found, just as it seemed
completely forgot—all its letters
beginning with Dear....
Source: Poetry (February 2002).
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This poem originally appeared in the February 2002 issue of Poetry magazine
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SUBJECT Home Life, Relationships, Living, Disappointment & Failure, Activities, Indoor Activities
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