The Tears of Things

by Susan Sherman

Will they cry for us when we have gone
the objects that adorn our lives
When we have left    will they miss our touch
our need for them

Do they know they are the chosen ones
or do they fear we will tire of them
set them aside    bound as they are by our desire
not theirs

A ball point pen    white    with gold bands
imported from France    birthday gift
from a beloved friend    A fountain pen
sun yellow with black enamel tip
Relics of an earlier age

Forty Oz books hidden from prying eyes
Well worn novels    books of religion
philosophy    the occult    long out of print
All those books we hold dear    have kept through years
with leather bindings    colorful illustrations
childhood dreams

Even the magazines we treasure    worthless
to others    A college t–shirt    now sizes too small
A pair of boots    useless    but prized
A turquoise necklace from an old lover
too full of memories to wear

All the things we refuse to throw away
Each one holding a piece of our past

When we have gone people may cry for us
but even those who hold us dear
at a certain point move on    Our objects

belong to us alone    We have left part of ourselves
behind in them

Lacrimae rerum: the tears of things
Do they love us as we love them
Will they weep for us when we are gone