Trinkets

Many are the things we hold onto
Silly trinkets we continue to treasure
Physically unable to part with these
For once, they brought us great pleasure

That is a lesson each one learns harshly
When a beloved object we no longer find
Until we realize it is stored safely
Occupying space in our cluttered mind

Sometimes it is the same with the people
We are attached to with such devotion
We may long for a tangible reminder
Instead of grasping hold of emotion

Still we survive with our memories
Finding joy in the words which they said
Lest we curate our own museums
And are unable to bury our dead

James A. Hillman / Flint, Michigan