Money shall be the first to go.
Rings and other circles of gold & silver
My pearl white dress with pin holes
A little yellow now
All the spoils of my wedding.
The rain will fill the air
With teacups, trophies and medals
Knives and spoons and sound of plates crashing
Bronze shoes that belonged to my son.
Nails will be holes
And painting frames would reveal
How my house was with
The forgotten colours i grew old.
Wax soldiers deformed by summers of youth
We were hunters of moments
That became prey to smiles.
So the pictures must go, all of them
The ones that are hidden
And the ones in grey.
The urns that were crafted by my father
Were never meant for keeping ashes
So take these secret keepers
And store your darkest ones
Till the time is right.
Clothes will be given away in the end
I will be as I came.
And when the walls are bare
The ghosts will be gone.
Today I will wear an empty room.
*based on an excellent short story of the same name by Judith Ortez Cofer.
