Hoarding. A Poem by Lesley Williams

They say we must not hoard, yet if I could
I would save each scrap of sunset,
Cram every kiss in my pocket
Clutch tight to each embrace and
Spindle smiles in a magic lantern

I would hoard raucous laughter,
Unplanned party chatter, and the
Screams from ant-infested picnics
Shelves would be stuffed
with illicit giggles and demented dances
Drawers overflowing with unsorted sorties

For now in mute isolation
We cling to paper and purity,
Cleansing bodies while stripping souls,
Rubbing our hands raw
Of human touch, we

Bowl and dance alone
Stare wistfully at screens
And silenced schoolyards
In cells of our own making

And so, greedily I hoard my stores
Of laughter and love
Handshakes and hugs
Carefully stirring and building these
Bright fires of memory
To warm me in the chill of a
Lonely spring.

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