by Claudia Mills
The Salvation Army Sent a Truck
I kept a few things, of course,
but only a few. Framed photographs.
The ceramic bird Christmas ornaments:
goldfinch, cardinal, chickadee.
worn wallet with expired driver’s license.
The green glass plates for gooseberry pie.
I’ve never been one for things,
more stuff to pack up and unpack.
But still – a pang – when they took
his chair, the one he kept covered
with the threadbare sheet, to keep
the faded roses from fading even more.
***
A Year after Her Parents’ Divorce
When we play hide-and-seek,
she tells me where she’s going
to hide; it’s always the same,
beneath a blanket
on the couch right next to me.
In case I need a few more
clues, she adds a series of
squeaks and giggles coming
from the hiding place.
She wants so much to be found.
I want so much to be
the one finding her.
Photo by Lana Jokhadze via Pexels
I simply love these poems: so evocative, such rich imagery, and in so few words. Thank you!
Thank you so much, Virginia! I’m thrilled to be able to share these here.
These are wonderful, Claudia.
Thank you, dear Laura. I love that we are poet friends!
Thank you, dear Laura. I love that we are poet friends!