Email Poem

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Poem

A rickety old chair sits in a corner of our house…it’s a chair no one can fit in.
Which begs the question why hold onto a chair we never intend to sit in.

If you asked I’d tell you, “That old chair, the one in the corner you’re looking at…
Deborah’s dad made it with his own hands…we can’t get rid of that.

Our house is filled with children’s books…books we definitely no longer need.
Which begs the question why have so many books we no longer intend to read.

If you asked I’d tell you a secret…one every parent knows
They were all books we read to our children and our grandchildren…
we can’t get rid of those.

We have our share of knick-knacks…on which only dust accrues…
Which begs the question…why have so many objects we never intend to use?

If you asked I’d tell you…and I’m sure that Deborah agrees…
Every object reminds us of someone, some time…some place…
we can’t get rid of these.

By now it must be obvious…I believe my point…I’ve proved
The reason we can’t throw these things away
 is they’re all too heavy to move.

Not too heavy physically….for we can lift them all with ease…
What makes them difficult to throw away…
are the weight of their memories.

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