This poem comes via a one word prompt — Museum — and went longer than my usual morning small poem writing activities.
This museum of you
contains dust and
debris, and artifacts
worth remembering,like: half-written
poems and unsung
songs and essays
you meant to throw
away, but never did,scribbled etches
on paper from
an imaginative kid,
and notes you wrote
to someone you lost,receipts of objects
where you circled
the cost, gewgaws
and baubles
you didn’t want
anyone else to see,but still – I looked in
and wandered around,
for there, on the inside,
on the scattered grounds
of the museum of you,
I discovered a mirror:
the museum of me
Peace (Wandering Through),
Kevin
I’m a collector.
For many years I put things like old drivers licenses, work appraisals, letters, cards, etc. in boxes that I hoped would be a history for others to use in the future.
I collected notes, articles, reports, news clippings, documenting the work I and others were doing to lead tutor/mentor programs and hosted these in file cabinets. These also were intended to help people build and sustain better youth programs in the future.
Sadly, as I’ve downsized my personal life since 2019 I’ve had to trash much of what I collected.
In the same way, as I transitioned in 2011 from leading a 2-part non profit, I left everything related to the youth program for those who took the lead following me. I took all the Tutor/Mentor Connection records and stored them in boxes. I’ve managed to keep much of that, but it’s gaining dust and I ‘m not cure if anyone will ever be interested in looking through this history.
Your poem reminded me of this.
When poems spark a memory, that’s a good thing (for the most part). I realize your memory is the lost archives and history of the program, which is not good, but your work to impact lives, and your continued calling attention to the issues, resonates still.
Kevin