own or rent?
buy or borrow?
have or not?

it's the almost blank wall that i choose to sit looking at.

after all these years of acquiring and collecting,
it's the small yellow wall in the kitchen
that seems to hold an answer.

you tell me your dream,
how you tried to carry the heavy sweetness back,
as if it could be bottled,
as if it could be returned,
like the plate the pie came on.

from now on i want to, each day,
give something away,
pass it on. let it go.
i think of the things i do miss,
a few i could hold in my hands.
the others as invisible as the air i pull through my nose,
as abundant as the snowflakes
that are falling from the silver sky.