Antique

Wow, after 3 years of silence - boom like a bazooka with this raw, introspective piece.

I’m at a loss for words that can bring you comfort, except part of you will remain here in the DUP archives of poems. I too at times wonder what will happen to my possessions when I’m called to the spirits. No immediate heirs, except for offspring of siblings.

I guess what matters they are just possessions. If there is an after-life they won’t be important there.

I am in awe of how maturing changes what was once so important to own, have, achieve...

If your home was on fire, and you could only take one item with you, what would you save? Most people say photos. I too would have said photographs if asked this question a few years ago.  If asked today, I would reply "my wallet" because it would be practical. All the stuff is replaceable. The photos are just memories I will always carry with me.

Thank you for reading my submission. I love getting comments on my posts and being introduced to other writers. I look forward to ready yours.

I'm back... again. My apologies for the very late reply.
Someone recently said to me "you'll never regret the things not purchased but the roads not travelled".

Tongue In Cheek...

Deais with the human body , not the soul...

That is the most important , when considering
the value of one's past , and one's future...

Well done , my friend !

Thanks Blackwolf!

Yes, it is very much meant to be a satire regarding death. My father passed three years ago. It was only months ago that I decided to unpack the boxes I packed from his estate. The items I put in the boxes were sentimental.
As I opened the boxes all I could think was "What the hell was I thinking!?!" The items in the boxes had no meaning, no reflection of the man that owned them. They were only sentimental to me at the time they were packed because the greatest person and influence in my life owned them. Where ever my Dad is, he probably getting a very good laugh at my expense. He was always asking me to take stuff home so he could downsize.

I'm sorry I haven't replied. I've lost my muse and only recently found a voice.

Thank you for your encouragement.

Thank you. Getting old isn't for the squeamish. This is fore sure.

Your first post after three years and I so relate to that. Sad but beautiful. Temples greying, elastic waist slacks ... so true. Although kids, they moved out years ago. No grandchildren yet, no dog anymore. But memories abundant. And I treasure them.
I hope you are well!

Oh Chiyo, I have thought of you over the past three years. Wondering what words you masterfully have selected and thoughtfully placed in an artful order.
My Dad passed away three years ago - with him my desire or motivation to write.  I was first motivated to write when my Mom passed. It was a positive and healing.
Even now I struggle, I lost my muse. Nothing, no one, or memories inspire a story.
I hope you and your loved ones are well.  

You've got PM.