The familiar carseat that was first to hold
Our daughter from the hospital, the rocking chair
Where a thousand bedtime stories have been told--
I threw them away as though I didn’t care.
And countless other treasures of our life
Brimming with memories, enriched with love,
Artifacts of my children and my wife
I’ve had to fling or toss or shove
Into a reeking dumpster, sad debris
From our explosive exit out of town,
And though we try to slow our exit down
Some hidden engine, roaring, blasts us free
And we must hold on tight and hope we find
A landing worth what we have left behind.
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