The Old Home Place
You can’t take it with you is only one reason to not cling to material goods. The other, who is going to go through it? when you’re gone? Perhaps it’s best if someone unattached sells them at auction. Takes them to Goodwill.
unraveling life
of my parents could take mine
with each item touched
A piece of tinfoil lays crumbled near the gate, covered with overgrown bushes, sprouts from the tree we cut down years ago, overtake the stump. Furniture scattered on the front porch. Wind chimes collide with each other.
a pleasant morning
Mom hangs clothes on the line
Texas wind in trees
Some things remain untouched. Siblings have been broken apart. The family photo of smiles from 50 years has been replaced by quarreling and questions of what goes to whom and why. In the case of money, it is easy. In the case of memories, knickknacks and photographs, it is chaos.
the mantra letting
go with un-attachment is
unattainable
6 thoughts on "The Old Home Place"
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Such a poignant piece, and very relatable. I love the landing of the last stanza.
The ending gives this poem so much depth and humanity. I like how It’s not a dramatic cry of despair, but a soft, resigned acknowledgment. Beautiful, thanks for sharing, Laverne.
I find the first haiku so stabbingly real and open. So well constructed. The series of starts and stops with the haibun forms mirrors in a such visceral way the starts and stops of grieving. A thoughtful way to confront the rites of passage. I guess if we live long enough, we’ll look at least once at our own lives with their material dissolutions in mind.
Enjoyed the experimentation here! Lovely journey. Fav line –
Wind chimes collide with each other.
Very well done!
Jack Benny said when told he couldn’t take it with him, then he wouldn’t go. Thank God we don’t have a choice.