Tchotchkes, knick-knacks, “collectibles”
Whatever you call them
you know what they really are
Trapping every bit of dust and dander they come in contact with
Sometimes I feel that way
Like a dust collector
for every negative thing
floating my way
Or a gaping black hole
Devouring everything it comes in contact with…
feather duster anyone?
6 responses to “Tchotchkes”
Wow. That’s heavy. Beautifully written and it says so very much.
I appreciate your kind words, always so supportive!
Sometimes, we allow what’s happening around us, to get to us, affecting us, do much so, that, the line between what’s in and out becomes, completely, meshed together, that we can’t, separate…
So very true
I am in love with this poem.
Wow, thanks 😉