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It feels like spring cleaning,

The shift from year to year.

I spend the night before the New one

Sealing collections of memories

Into knockoff Ziploc space

And sandwich bags, for the smaller ones

(Eye colors, smile creases, where I put my keys, etc.). 

With each year, 

The bags become more and more

Cramped,

The memories 

Fuzzier when I take them out 

For re-inspection. 

There’s less storage space 

On my shelf for this bag

(TWO THOUSAND FIFTEEN

I label in big red sharpie)

Have to be more selective of 

Which I keep and which I let go. 

A funeral service- into the bag

A shopping list- out 

Two particular rehearsals- in

One dead fish- out

Graduation

Concerts

New school

Ten pounds I could do without

(But it’s not that simple)-

In

In

In 

Ou- in.

It takes some time to mull over 

Your face, of course,

Friendship,

Thread of messages.

Three weeks ago I would’ve 

Saved room for them but

Now all I can keep

Are two silent spoons of sugar

And the rim of a Christmas tree coffee mug.

That’ll have to do. 

I’ve overpacked

Again

And

It’s time

To let go of what I cannot remember. 

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