I leave my family of 10

I take being the oldest

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

I leave the dinner table with 40 place settings

I take the smell of Sunday pasta sauce

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

I leave the family room without enough seating.

I take the feeling of human closeness

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

I leave the bedroom that I shared.

I take with me the secrets of my sisters

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

I leave the isolation of the location.

I take with me the wide-open spaces

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

I leave the barn with the hole in the roof

I take with me the smell of fresh-baled hay

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

I leave the bathroom confusion getting ready in the morning

I take with me my ability to think in a crisis

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

I leave taking care of someone else’s child.

I take with me my compassion.

I LEAVE THE FAUCETS OPEN DRIPPING

CONTAMINATED WATER

I TAKE CANCER FROM DRIPPING FAUCETS

This article appears in January 2013.

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1 Comment

  1. Teresa, I loved ther poem. By allowing yourself to absorb and take those fellings with you, keeps you in touch with yourself. Many of our fellow humans don’t feel enough. It’s not thier fault, the speed of daily life robs them of many emotions. I love feeling for everything, including memories.

    F.I.

    Reply
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