Purple Lady Poetry

We have cleared the wardrobe, the cupboards, the drawers.
We have bagged stuff, dumped stuff, sold stuff, donated stuff
And kept stuff.

The odd gloves, the glasses, the car boot detritus
That tell of inclinations and obsessions.
A broken Grandad mug carefully mended.
Paperbacks with chocolate wrapper bookmarks
And supermarket receipts carefully hoarded with cryptic notes.
Recipes written on odd scraps for a made up stew.
Schoolboy essays and letters to lost friends telling of a life long past.
The clothes; some not worn for years.
Old shirts with unfashionable collars and ties long relegated.
The trainers, all old, that somehow retain the sense of weight
And steps taken in life.

Now the black bin bags flap loudly in the skip
Sometimes showing their contents.
I think I should cover them decently but
They will soon be gone.
This is another passing
And it must be done.