Clutter

I return to a pile of trinkets, so carefully saved through the years

Filling up the corners of my Sunday with necessary aggravations

Trinkets with expectations of service and inevitability shimmer in the veiled recesses of my mind

I tell some to take the day off, to go and visit some friends

While I rearrange the furniture

I plan to throw them away and recycling comes to mind

Recycling aggravations into positives

finish incomplete tasks

Remove the attachments and uncouple the embarrassed, resentment of the spurned,

place in a toxic waste bin and maybe they’ll be re-purposed

Cycle existence into something new

Say goodbye and set them free