© 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!!!”
February 16, 2021 at 6:50 pm
That’s real. It’s hard for me to throw anything out because it may serve a useful purpose down the road.
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February 16, 2021 at 8:29 pm
Aodhan, you have a rare gift of being able to say the right thing at the right time. Thank you.
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February 16, 2021 at 9:49 pm
I can relate! What was once new is now vintage. Yet, I can’t bear to part with the things that hold fond memories. When I die my children will likely throw out many of my treasures. I imagine they will keep the items that bring them fond memories of their childhood. It’s funny what becomes a treasure. When my father passed, a decade after my mother, my youngest son helped me gather up his belongings and make choices on what to keep. My son was a film student in college at the time (now he is an assistant director in television and movies). He loved my parents’ old movie camera and projector from the 1940’s. In fact, he created several films using the vintage items. Had he not taken them I probably would have donated them. I kept my mom’s vintage kitchen items because I thought they were unique, and her old dishes were beautiful. So treasures are in the eye of the beholder.
My grandfather was a tailor. I doubt my children would be interested in his vintage thimbles. Yet I cherish them.
My oldest son kept my father’s WWII dog tags and medals. He idolized my Dad. Everyone finds value in something.
Thank you for this delightful poem.
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February 17, 2021 at 8:01 pm
What a wonderful, thoughtful response to my tongue-in-cheek poem. Perhaps there was much more reality in it than I at first thought. Thank you.
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February 17, 2021 at 5:31 pm
All these cassettes…and VHS tapes…
I shield my library from the throwers-out.
Who reads books?
You may do what you will with them…
when I die.
Paz
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February 17, 2021 at 7:59 pm
Paz, The longer I live I find that someone, anyone, keeps something they treasure that has no real meaning in their every day life. Wouldn’t it be a harsh world if we all only lived “every day lives?”
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February 28, 2021 at 1:30 am
I am going through this right now with moving and getting rid of stuff.
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March 1, 2021 at 10:13 pm
I don’t envy you. I promised myself that the last move I made about 30 years ago would be the last.
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