Notes About The Poem
The one thing we all love doing when we can.
The Thing We All Love Most
This morning I opened my cupboard and sighed then looked for clothes to get rid of.
To remove and donate, give away and throw out, the clothes I no longer love.
To keep or to throw? Missing buttons, are they broken? Colorful enough? Or are they torn?
These questions and more I kept asking myself, about clothes that I had once proudly worn.
The pile of clothes to remove grew larger and bigger, filling bags up against my wall.
All of them were thrown for only one reason, their sizes had grown too small.
All they had to do was stretch a bit, in a few key places, just a few inches here or there.
They just had to relax their fiber a little, then all of them I’d gladly re-wear.
But they were stubborn, their thread didn’t budge, of course we had to go our own way.
Now I’m happy, upbeat, ecstatic, am thrilled. I’m shopping for clothes all day.
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