One wall holds trinkets
garnered from vendors
in little tents along alleyways,
in valleys and on beaches
from lands far and near.
One wall holds baskets and gadgets
and things mundane to others,
yet dearly loved by me, colors overlapping into an organized chaos in my graphically prolific imagination.
One wall holds items necessary to living, a knife rack, utensil jar and serving tray, a spice cabinet and hook for fancy towels to dry wet hands and tufted pads for lifting hot things.
One wall holds photo memories
of the life that was lived, babies born, children now parents themselves and flowers long gone, but never forgotten
live on within the wall that is me.
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