Things — A Poem


They say it isn’t nice

to  love things as well as life


but hoarders know that things will stay

when others in their lives go way.


My things all around me pile,

big Mama to the little child.


Old letters calling to my mind,

tales from those who are left behind.


Wise old Yoda looks back at me

as though to say, “It’s me and thee.”




About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 83 now.
This entry was posted in A mixed bag, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Please share your own experiences here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.