YARD SALE BOOTY

Who would we be if not for our belongings?? Would we really be oursleves?

I spent weeks deciding between junk and jewel.
At six a.m. my yard was adorned with souvenirs
belonging to another woman from another time.
Good riddance I say.
By eight-fifteen the rain came in buckets!
Was this God's cruel joke?
Or perhaps his way of saying
"You are who you are because of who you've been"?
I waited for the hordes (of people, not rain),
I wandered oblivious to the drizzle
now steadily leaking from the sky.
I picked up each item and journeyed
to the exact instant we met.
As the memories flooded my awareness
so did the rain.
I snapped into the present when
a lightning bolt haloed my reborn passions.
As a pirate collecting his booty
I hurriedly scooped the precious cargo from the light
lest someone should glimpse my pilfering.
I quickly lined my now empty shelves
and wondered aloud
how anyone could be so careless
as to leave their treasures
out in the yard
in the pouring rain.