Pick up a something
I can’t always identify
With a story
A life
A smell of owners past
A trinket a father brings back for his little girl
Eighty years later
She dies alone
And I pick it up at an auction house
Wear it around my neck
Someone’s favorite little black dress
That her little waist grew out of
When she had her first baby
Kept until her death
Promising she’d get back to the way she was
But she was forever changed
I throw it on with heels and a string of pearls
A box of old tools
A father, who got it from his father
Plans to pass it on
But his son rejects such old-fashioned frivolities
And buys himself a new power drill
I take them home
Sharpen and clean
And make a shelf for my brother’s bedroom
Bringing new life to the lost
Another life to add


6 thoughts on “Reincarnation

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