We’ve packed them all away,
Those treasures saved from times long gone,
Till one far day when sorting can go on
As we discard that which we need no more.
We call it storage,
Prized possessions waiting to be claimed.
As through the years
The things we bought and used a while,
Now in the way or ceased to be in style,
Saved for that special hour
When we would need them once again.
Those extra things that clutter till the time
When they are just right to solve a need,
And save the day again,
Will come to life to solve tomorow’s problems.
There now they wait,
Those piles of boxes stowed away.
The future holds a time e’erlong
When we will sort again.
(February 2000)
(Revised 2001 for an Iowa Poetry Association entry.)