Old Things

The moon is shining.

I am cleaning up - throwing out old things.

A bit of my mother's hair, my little sister's doll and some rusty rose leaves - why do I keep these?

I do not need the bit of hair to revive the memory of my mother;

 My little sister has grown up, married, and passed away;

And the girl who put the rose into my buttonhole has three children.

 I see her now and then.

We laugh at our childhood love.

When I grew up I was to have been a flour miller.

I could see her coming into my office with one of our children.

We planned many things.

We were fifteen.

A flour miller - what a failure I have been! I am only an author of books.

I might have been a useful citizen.

The moon has gone behind the clouds.

I have put the hair, the doll, and the rose leaves back into the box.

-Max Ehrmann