Light in the Attic
A light in the attic. Only one.
There is no need for more.
Nothing here bears a close examination.
Not any longer.
Everything was examined,
perhaps too closely,
before it was put away.
Things that are no longer needed,
no longer wanted, some of,
most of them broken,
but for some reason, cannot be thrown away
even when you try.
About this poem
I don’t know if we ever get rid of everything in our past, even when we do the work. Even when we are mostly successful in banishing them. True in attics. True in the traumas of our life.
I don’t recall where I took this picture, but I have always liked it.