Her children were segregating her belongings
Into two heaps, 'Litter' and 'Cash.'
She had died two days before, and they were tearing
At the carrion of her being.
...
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Ouch! This sounds like a true story, but I hope it isn't. This line hurt the most: He threw her collection of old love letters, verse and journals, Into the trash bin. What a tragic loss! Those things are worth more than anything else she could have owned. A great poem.
well, to HER they may have been priceless, but i don't fault the son. why should our children, spouses, friends, etc. be 'forced' or 'shamed into feigning interest in things the 'departed' (or not dead yet) are/were interested in? ? i love birds. my friend Cary loves old cars. we each listen to the other (for a while) talk of our interest, but we are aware that they are our separate interests, not everyone's interest! just to add my two cents to Kim's rather different comment. she died. get over it. hee-hee. my survivors won't have much cash to recover, AND i don't expect them to 'respect' my poems. bri ;)