The Gift Of The Empty Hand (edit #3)

[just mercedes]

The Gift of Loss

You left without your things.

Eighty years of saving
sorted, labeled, ready for reuse.
Bookshelves crammed:
Twain, Cayce, Eliot,
religious tomes in languages
the rest of us couldn't read;
favorite issues from the weekly deluge
of magazines on every subject. Can you give a couple of names?
Closets stacked with picnic baskets Describe one?
and fixable vacuum cleaners,
Polaroid cameras in their striped boxes, I saw them
photos of you, us, them.

When the ocean took it all you came, grinning,
reminding me "They're just things."
My arms are full of empty, I LOVE this line
free to hold today.

Hi - this is lovely - just a couple of suggestions, a little more particulars. Left me with a sad warmth.