sunday scribblings: miscellaneous
a poem about stuff
a box of what’s left over
after sorting
a stack of post-its
curling and yellow
(not with age, just as they are)
and the cryptic scrawls
phone message
half-formed grocery list
idea for code or poem
plants haphazard
unlabeled, unknown
jumbled in the bed
at the far end of the garden
to wait under leaf
rain, an occasional snow
until spring brings
inspiration and energy
after the model is assembled
three Legos at the bottom
of the plastic bag
not enough to use
for anything
toss them in the tub
a box of what’s left over
after the files are tidy
and the drawers are clean
which is to say
a dozen projects
tiny to infinite
belonging to nothing else
a form, a catalog
a phone number
markers of larger things
I wanted to do
and did not make time for
or that I should have done
but did not want to
or was afraid I could not finish.
I can never make time for this..
Arty? Not me!!
You wrote a good poem and I can relate to it. Lately, when the kitchen junk drawer is too full, I take some of the stuff out of it and toss it in the garbage. And know one misses it. But, at the time, someone thought it was important enough to add to the junk drawer.
I love it! I’m sure most of can identify with your words.