We are not our things.

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Photo: A Room Overflowing With Stuff — Photo by Onur Bahçıvancılar on Unsplash

We are not our things.

I tried to remember this as I watched the workers fill the fourth, fifth and sixth truckloads with beer cans, framed photos, the scarlet curtains that decorated Dave’s windows for over a decade, an old piano, the refrigerator full of rotting food (duct-taped shut), mattresses, empty liquor bottles, and bags of junk excavated from the attic and basement.

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Occasional poet. Writer of sad essays. Novelist. Birder and amateur photographer. I enjoy trees.

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