Just One of Those Things

Just One Of Those Things David J Walker The boxes of wide mouth Mason Jars Still stood stacked in the back of the Garage in neat racks of nothingness Covered in dust, a slight hint of rust in its rings and a dry emptiness It’s just one of those things I told myself thinking about My mother earning her wings As a child in the kitchen of a Dustbowl depression farmhouse holding fast to the last of an agrarian lifestyle blowing away with tumbleweeds and topsoil A dream in a recoil of better expectations It’s just one of those things I told myself thinking about the letter Written to her son the soldier better Then 50 years later still in my desk drawer Telling me about home Asking me about the war “No rain again here today, dear son I pray for you every day It’s just one of those things I told myself thinking about the book Signed by everyone attending her funeral Stacked neatly in a closet with the Silver framed picture of her at 21 To whom should I bequeath these things Jars full of emptiness Letters postmarked 1972 books of names losing their meaning with Each year passing Will they wallpaper some trendy Restaurant in some other city And state of being It’s just one of those things