Things Left Behind

This house is filled with memories...
Fragments to sift through.
A grey, felt hat,
Some brown, leather loafers.
I will keep the string tie
And the letter opener.
(They have my birthstone.)

Yet over the years
You gave me what
You wanted me to keep:
The jewelry box,
The clock,
The family pictures,
The old letters,
The mission style bureau,
The three porcelain bowls.

This house is filled with memories...
Yesterday long and quiet;
A raised eyebrow the only acknowledgement
That you knew we were there.
And years ago
The long van ride,
Sweet onions,
And the roses in your yard.

Yet over the years
You gave me what
You wanted me to keep:
Stories attached to items,
Notes tucked into a corner,
All the generations stretching
Across the water to England...
Wishing to hold onto something,
I will let the rest go.

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Where the light speckled ground is strewn with tiny, white flowers,
Where last season's leaves smell moist and cool,
Where the shadowed creek races with foam and debris
Between wet banks covered in moss and fern,
Where the sunshine kisses the tip of each brown twig
Spring peeps out from a bulging sassafrass bud.

New Snow (another exercise from chapter 7)

The beautiful, soft, feather-powder of snow
sifts lazily down
and the ground glows white
under the gaze of the full moon.
The naked trees are slipping long, white garments
along their branches;
and everything is so still, so quiet
I can almost hear the hiss of snow
sizzling out on your cheeks-
looking like tears.

Five Poemlets on New Snow (an exercise from chapter 7)

1
Lights twinkle through the window
casting colored glitter
onto the newly fallen snow.

2
The trees nod their heads wearily
weighted with the cares
of newly fallen snow.

3
Low sky glows pink with farm lights.
The night world is soft with new snow.

4
The cold kisses of the sky
sizzle away on your cheeks
looking like tears.

5
The silence is immense and soft;
is the world sleeping
beneath this blanket of new snow?