© 2021 Barbara Grace Lake

Please tell me when my radio
Became an unused derelict
Along with other disused junk
Its time gone by, another age
Like irons or my ironing board

I often take that iron out
To dust it off, then put it back
The record changer on the shelf?
Is dusted, too. No changing discs
Pandora does a better job

My bottom kitchen drawer contains
Mid many useful (idle) things
A whisk that stops on every turn
It won’t whip cream. Why keep the tool?
From Gramps’ old kitchen, ‘twas a gift

“Hey lady! You forgot ‘bout me.”
Said old and grumpy coffee can
Now home to every rubber band
Retrieved like some from broccoli stalks
The bands not broc for use again

We come to clothes, a few too small
Retained as they might fit next year
I welcome friends who help me sort
But shriek on seeing favorites culled,
“For Heaven’s sake don’t throw that out!!!”