by Kenneth Hoffman
(Morristown, NJ , USA)
The hardest part about moving
Is discarding all that I saved.
The tiny locket you always wore
With my name and birthday engraved.
A photo of us at the beach,
All knobby-kneed and sandy,
The box we made at school for you
Skimpily painted and slanty.
How can I think of selling them?
They're not even worth two pennies.
Unless you could add in twelve years of joy
And a couple of priceless old memories.