Neatly folded in the corner of the closet
remnants of a wedding dress,
baby blankets, curtains for the bedroom,
brightly colored cloth and scraps of ribbon
assembled and nearly forgotten
in the quiet darkness of the armoire
Children all grown and moved away
nothing from the husband but a photograph
in a frame with broken glass.
It is time to discard these reminders
of earlier times when laughter was rare
and tears ready to fall
with a word, or look, the smell of alcohol
an aggressive push against the bedroom chest
the sudden crash when the picture fell.
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