Poetry Sunday

As I work my way through my 70s en route to my 80s and the distant sunset of my own mortality, I need to make a lot of decisions and changes. One of them is what to do with all my stuff that I've collected over a lifetime ... stuff that means a lot to me, but that my children won't want and that I will need to discard if (when) we move to a smaller home. I can tell you, it's not easy to toss away the things that Margaret Hasse describes in today's poem as "all the weight that encumbered and rooted me on this earth." 

Belongings 

by Margaret Hasse 

After being a student, then an hourly worker,

I became a career girl and earned real money.

I left behind a provisional furnished apartment

with its stained curtains, butt-burned table

and Goodwill mattress I was never sure about.

Alone I bought a house with an attic,

a basement and a skirt of flowers.

Freely I spent on white paint, silver knobs

for kitchen cabinets and a sofa made of corduroy

that wrinkled my face when I napped.

A bureau with a display to worship

photos and framed mottos:

If only one prayer, thank you will suffice.

Do I regret the down payment,

fixtures, fittings, furniture, years of mortgage?

Would I take anything back?

No, I would not. I meant it all,

every purchase, all the weight that encumbered

and rooted me on this earth.

I'll let you know when the estate sale is.

Have a good day and enjoy the rest of your weekend. More thoughts coming.

Bilbo