The Last Move

Every time that I move

I say it’s the last time

It’s a task that I dread

I am not in my prime

First, you must pack it

And then label each box

Make sure that your dishes

Aren’t mistaken for socks

The new home must be cleaned

Your old one! it will too

Where you get your energy

You really have no clue

Furniture is not getting lighter

Which my back can attest

When carrying down a stairs

I try to do my best

I know something will get lost

Something else will get broken

Get tired, tempers will flare

Regret things hastily spoken

Then comes putting it away

There’s not enough room

If you get upset, go outside

Seeking solace in your gloom

Then comes cleanup time

Piles of boxes, packing galore

Only thing comes to my mind

Is what I said before

I have moved my last time

My next move? In a box

It will be my eternal casket

One not labeled socks

Monday, October 3, 2022