1998 Boxing up Michael
Putting his things in boxes,
Placing them on the wet grass by the street,
Rain on my face, stinging.
Tears in my eyes, also stinging.
Anger, hot in my heart because, stupidly
Changing sheets, changing locks,
Changing passwords, changing banks.
Doubt should have prevailed.
Sanity could have prevailed.
My trust was his tool and, stupidly
His books and tools and clothes resided
In open boxes on rain-damp grass,
And later he found them on Sylvia’s grass
Because some things never change.
He was a lesson learned because, stupidly
1998 Boxing Up Michael by Connie J. Jasperson © 2016 All Rights Reserved