In the attic– a zebra, Zorro, and a ghoul
are lurking in the tumbled costume piles
beside a one-armed Barbie, two-legged stool,
a lost Pet Rock, a dozen bathroom tiles
(cracked, mismatched). Mired in the cellar–
a musty stack of Glamor magazines,
ancient awls and planes and saws to sell or
chuck, a Nehru jacket, flowered jeans.
I find a shoebox chocked with orphaned socks,
a busted hula hoop, a Schwinn bike tire,
three rakes with missing teeth, two broken clocks,
and a rusty-runnered sled (dead Flexible Flyer).
Let’s call a man to haul this stuff away
So we’ll have room for junk with new cachet.
Barbara Lydecker Crane