The lamp you bought
in ‘92
When it was new,
When it was fine,
Now it’s mine.
Glass beads,
Tiles and fabric,
Bags of lentils,
Surplus goods,
Came home with me.
Proof you lived,
Now deposited
at the transfer station,
The contents of
your kitchen,
Sparkling on top
of the trash.
Glasses, stemware, dishes,
Your special China.
I was with you
when you chose the
pattern.
Now dumped
without ceremony,
For greedy collectors
on a Saturday morning.
They don’t know
your story.
I didn’t have time.
Your precious things,
Some I coveted
(I always wanted
That lamp).
I’d trade them all
For a time machine,
For time with you,
For the love you
Chose to
withhold.
July 22, 2023
