Unruly Drawers

The drawers have become unruly.
Things spill out, one to the other,
not minding the careful order
you worked so hard to impose.

Sloppiness or perhaps too good a job
so you lived in an assumption
that each thing lived in its place
but that is not the way life works.

No, things have a life of their own,
migrating from one drawer to the next,
slipping out altogether, memories and things
always escaping, so often you wonder

just why you bother with drawers

About this poem

Some days my thoughts are more unruly than others. A poem about things and mess and memories and the failed art of compartmentalizing.

The photograph was taken at Hancock Shaker Village.

Tom