Starting Over
They realised it wasn't working,
so they decided to move away
and start again.
There was so much to pack.
They lovingly wrapped
all their hurts and long-nursed grievances
in sheets of old newspaper
and tucked them carefully inside
a box
with the Christmas decorations.
They dragged from backs of cupboards
guilts that smelled of mothballs,
dusted off old regrets.
They ticked off inventories
of disappointments and betrayals,
and when everything was packed away in crates
[labels: "routine",
"remorse", "reproach",
"for the sake of the children"],
they carried them out to
waiting removal vans.
They must have been so heavy.
Then once the house was empty,
clean,
purged of the sad clutter
of something that didn't work,
they left,
took with them
everything they didn't realise
they might have left behind,
and started a new life.
A shared, unspoken doubt
festers quietly on a different mantlepiece.
Crossings-out in a few address books.
A new postcode to remember.
Starting over.
They realised it wasn't working,
so they decided to move away
and start again.
There was so much to pack.
They lovingly wrapped
all their hurts and long-nursed grievances
in sheets of old newspaper
and tucked them carefully inside
a box
with the Christmas decorations.
They dragged from backs of cupboards
guilts that smelled of mothballs,
dusted off old regrets.
They ticked off inventories
of disappointments and betrayals,
and when everything was packed away in crates
[labels: "routine",
"remorse", "reproach",
"for the sake of the children"],
they carried them out to
waiting removal vans.
They must have been so heavy.
Then once the house was empty,
clean,
purged of the sad clutter
of something that didn't work,
they left,
took with them
everything they didn't realise
they might have left behind,
and started a new life.
A shared, unspoken doubt
festers quietly on a different mantlepiece.
Crossings-out in a few address books.
A new postcode to remember.
Starting over.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
the_swill:
Nice work, love! A princess of prose, eh?
zellkou:
Wow thats beautiful. Something that reaches deep down inside grabs your guts and ties them in knots. Makes me think of everything time I've done it. Makes me want to grab me fishing pole, my pen a pipe and my zippo get in my truck and drive until I can't remember the way back. But I digress it's just so beautiful and true.