Packing to move

Start with what’s hanging on the walls. 
 
Take down the big pieces in their heavy frames—
the forest, the seashore, the dance. 
Wrap them in sheets or blankets 
and slide them into the wide flat box. 
 
Then the medium-sized and miscellaneous: 
the Crucifixion, the hippies with their long hair curled 
and intertwined, the Bedouin from National Geographic 
with whose face you fell in love 
at twelve. 
 
The pieces with words: First Corinthians 13; 
Je ne veux pas mourir comme on meurt 
en décembre; the plaque of your one
teaching award.
 
Gather up the pieces from mantel or shelf: 
the photos of family, friends, self; 
the vases, the silk flowers, the perky wooden cat. 
 
Pack away first everything that is your most obvious 
signature. Make the place anonymous again. 
Then you will not forget that you don’t really 
live here any more.
 
The blank walls will call your eye whether you’re 
living your normal life or packing it away. 
They will be the spur when you feel you can’t face 
any more packing tape or dust or decisions.
 
Until everything is in boxes or bags 
for the movers or the thrift store or the garbage,
 
let the blank walls stare.

© Anne Le Dressay