Falling back asleep on the couch, I remember 

pieces of furniture I’ve had to jettison-
 
The blonde wood vanity and dresser,
my grandparents’ first bedroom furniture. 
 
That was the earliest sacrifice. I can not
dislocate my heart for you and share others:
 
I have Grammy’s mirror. 
Small enough to bring home, bubble-
 
wrapped and protected by two coats
in my checked luggage. 
 
I have Grammy’s mirror. 
A picture of Granddad holding me as
a baby with it on my great-
grandmother’s wall as proof of legacy.
 
I have Grammy’s mirror. 
I’m keeping it to hang in our new home, 
 
unsure if it will guard the front entry,
maintaining matriarchal manner,
 
or if it’ll hang where I want to reflect
security and happiness.
 
I have Grammy’s mirror. 
And I will not let it go.