stow away

you are stored in my attic with

stuffed bears and dr. seuss

her essence is there, too

sometimes i think i can smell

her drugstore perfume

i stay though i ache to run

a reminder of the old time

but the rumble of a

greyhound bus

can no longer comfort me

those days when i ran from

my mother, a lover, the law,

myself

i want to leave you up near

the eaves to be rustled through

like old poems and a

high school year book

when i am wrinkled and grey

i want this to fade like a

photograph

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