Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to explore a small, defined space. This was fun to write.
There are a few hundred mysteries to behold
Some hanging, some laying, some folded
Between all these cloths bought half-old
In that little closet of mine standing swollen.
There are shoes, semi-worn stuffed in nooks
Four shirts well worn, two pairs of pants well torn
A few various coats above the dresser slightly broke,
So much fabric lost and living, socks randomly sitting.
And I’m never quite brave enough to begin the cleaning
In the spring when I must decide between precious things-
There’s my jacket, from a friend in China, worn occasionally.
A quilt my great aunt made that’s never faced my bed.
Little lives lived in every string sown and cramped together
That I only ever see dug out every other spring and winter.
There’s a sewing machine used thrice and then forgotten,
My various bags and backpacks, a tent, a tarp, and hookah.
All the many little fragments of the hasty life I’ve lived
Are shoved into my closet when I can’t begin to comprehend
How I got this far in life – when did I buy this wig? Was it
This last Christmas? Where have all my socks gone again.