Wednesday, January 05, 2005


Being who I am,

there are duplicates
of every love letter
I wrote you, organized

by date, in a box
with your name.
Yours are in there, too,

our words, interspersed--
you and I, between the sheets
once again.

Being who I am,

I keep my memories
on a closet shelf,
knick-knacks I cannot

bring myself to discard,
revisited each time
I clean house.

Carefully, carefully,
I must return you
to your box, being

who I am.

Stephen Brooke ©2005

okay, so I kind of hit the reader over the head with this metaphor. I can be blatant occasionally, can't I? :)

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