Susan Taylor
The Auction
n a rainy day in October, they’re selling your life away.
People come from all over, for a piece of you they’ll pay.
Your bangles, your baubles, even the sheets from your bed.
Your treasures and your memories, and the pillow where you lay your head.
All your hopes and dreams will soon dissolve into a mist,
They swirl and dance around us, as if to prove that you exist.
Soon it will all be scattered, like the leaves from this tree,
It’s as if it never mattered, but at least it did to me.
Although I never met you, I don’t even know your name.
But I will never forget you, nor this place from where you came.
For you see, I helped prepare for this sale of your life,
I learned much of who you were: a woman…a mother…a wife.
My heart is with you, dear Lady, on this cold and rainy day,
And I will try to now show sadness, as we sell your life away.




   

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