Spring Cleaning

Nusaibah F. Yunus

The desk before me is cluttered, and I have decided to clean.
Hidden between the lines of junk I find momentary clarity–
Of what memories mean.

Behold, a jar of feathers, sitting on on the shelf,
Of past companions who have since fell.
A chipped photo frame sits beside,
Holding a rosy cheeked baby inside.
Two sheep made of sheep–As he once said,
Old memories, freshly dredged,
And the art supplies are now disorganized,
And the unfinished journals ask me why
Have I abandoned them?

But you see dearest reader, I
Am not organized, and let me tell you why.
Those feathers remind me of bites and screams,
From two birds who now soar and gleam
Across the rainbow bridge.
They were loved beyond measure,
My heart’s closest animal treasures –
They are in a better place now.

a jar of feathers

The baby is grown now, he is his own person,
Even though our living conditions worsened
The grass became greener once we reached the other side.
He has ambitions and dreams, sometimes it seems
Impossible, that he is almost my height.

The sheep made of sheep,
Dredged with memories and dirt,
Remind me of someone I loved
But that love will never outweigh the hurt
That he caused.
But yet I remember,
The days of December,
And a smile creeps onto my face.

The journals contain photos
And angst art and mementos
Of those who’ve come and gone
In this journey of life,
I remember them and above all
That is why I exist, dearest reader.

This is why my desk is cluttered,
I cannot part with the happiness
Even if they bring pain,
As the storm brews–
Clear skies will come again

One thought on “Spring Cleaning

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.