moving
through the archives,
i step around boxes of
packed things, even my note-
book is sealed in sellotape and all
the pictures are off the walls.
pulling things out of their hiding places:
old clothes (much too small now)
wince in the light, like small
animals pulled from their holes,
while photos of a little girl
wither at the corners
when the dust has all
been blown away
there’s just naked carpet
and imprints of the furniture
i had slept in
posted by Heather Glasgow @ Monday, November 24, 2008
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