What do you keep? Then, what do you leave behind?
Eighteen pieces of furniture in the basement.
Eighteen pieces of a life left behind
In the musty basement of a prep school dorm.
There is a fridge, used for three years now.
There is a beanbag, donated
Beanbag-less me by some senior.
There is a plastic drawer
Filled with band-aids never used,
And rusting letters from home.
There are books,
I should throw some out,
But they’re really kind of beautiful.
Things wouldn’t be the same without them.
So I won’t.
And shelves, and
All rotting away.