A fridge with soul.

A Long Time to Let Go

A Poem

It takes me a long
long time
to let things go.

Not like resentment
but physical objects.

and sometimes
resentment.

I have been told
I am terribly sentimental

When I was little
I remember my heart breaking
over the prospect of changing
our avocado-green refrigerator.

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To me it was a violation,
A tear in the fabric of familiarity.
The withdrawal of something

that made my home
Safe.

Then they moved it into the
basement as consolation.
It was ok.

Some people are like this for me.
And good, old metal scissors
and books.

But not phones or
sunglasses or ear buds,
and not even cars.

Sometimes things have souls,
and sometimes not.

I have no idea
what part of me
decides this.

Probably still
the little part.