How it is
that it comes to this —
that all that matters
is clean, deathly clean?
And yet we still move forward.
I strip you clean
of everything that belongs to you,
and peel and scrape
until all your bones
lay bare to the bold sun
and in turn
I bring home boxes of oddities —
cairns in each room —
making me wonder who
will clean my house come time
I too
will be so stripped,
peeled, scraped,
laid bare. I pray the sun warms,
sheds kindness as it bleaches
and that somewhere
in the great pile of debris
is forgiveness —
a gentle rain, a mild breeze,
an open meadow with wide arms.
7 responses to “Day 7, On cleaning out my father’s house”
Strange how we are all laid out like bleached bones. “Clean” is beautiful
Thank you. And yes it ends that way if it is not that way already! Sigh.
It seemed like a ritual when I went through the same thing. To think that a lifetime could be reduced to trinkets and valuables, and struggling to decide which is which when every one holds a memory, felt almost like sacrilege. It brought me close to assessing my own life, but not nearly close enough.
We live in a culture of ‘stuff’ — I am trying hard to renegotiate my relationship with it. We will see … Thanks for sharing your experience.
So perfect that the “forgiveness” is that final turning line. Others, ourselves…
Much to think on here; especially for me, the question of clean/empty. And that “laid bare.” Wow.
Yes. I am working through all of this now. Have you heard of this — https://www.amazon.com/Gentle-Art-Swedish-Death-Cleaning/dp/1501173243. It has given me a lot to think over.
I thought of exactly that book when I read this!