The Card Hoarder

I’m cleaning out my closet.
There’s a big box of cards.
Perched on my step stool,
I look through them, one by one.
Cards from my four kids.
Some signed with scrawly pint-sized print,
plus the cat.
Cards from bygone lovers.
Cards from old friends and new.
Funny cards.
Sunshine cards.
Pretty primrose cards.
Cards from the grave.
Happy-sad cards.
One with a satin streamer.
Cards that say what life sometimes can’t.
Cards that feel like
a eulogy before I’m gone.
I cried. I laughed. I sighed.
Then wrapped them up
in gentle rubber bands
and put them back:
children, siblings, parents,
friends, lovers– all
bundled together in their
nest of nostalgia.


About boomergirl47

Retired from the University of South Florida. Love reading, writing, hiking, nature, music, birding, puttering around the house and yard.
This entry was posted in human interest, nostalgia, poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Card Hoarder

  1. lcpknox says:

    Beautiful, as always, and something I do from time to time also.


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