The First Day

This morning
I cleaned out my room.

Started by moving my bed
to pick up socks, and my tangled
sheet that had fallen off to the side,

then I tucked the corners in
and waved my blanket in the air
until it settled, deflated
in its place on the bed.

I cleared the window sill near my
headboard where I had emptied out
an old purse next.

Tucked tampons into green velvet
drawstring pouch, collected bobby pins,
threw out old receipts, read through

poems I’d scribbled on dupes at work,
tossed business cards of people
I couldn’t remember into a pile
in case I needed them later.

There were things in my closet that needed
to be given away. I pulled one flannel
from four and set it with a white button
down, two pairs of heels, a too formal blouse
and some t shirts I no longer had use for.

I replaced the clothes with Christmas presents
from Mom. A gold sequined dress, a light blue
button down with elbow patches. Insulated
work boots and a red flannel jacket.

The room opened up as I threw away crumpled
papers, birthday cards, broken sunglasses.
My stomach yawned as I straightened up
the bookshelf.

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About amyleighcutler

Writer, dancer, vagabond extraordinaire
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The First Day

  1. Thomas Davis says:

    The endless detail made me smile, convincing me that you really did clean your room.

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