I don’t hold on to too many things 

Clutter is like unforgiveness 

Relics of the past are fences 

So I spent some time today throwing a lot of things away

But in my old closet is a 10-year-old book 

I flipped through its pages 

They were like a hook

Pictures of lattes and blue seas 

Birds and friends 

It was like a photo album of my dreams

It even had a hand-written note from my old friend who gifted it

She said it wouldn’t be our last cruise 

But just two years later came the terrible news 

A fatal stab wound had been served 

Who knew paper could sever 

Now it’s been seven years since we were all together 

I don’t know what to make of the prayers 

I wonder if anyone else even cares 

I couldn’t tell if holding that book was medicine or poison

We were all once rejoicing 

I catch up with those old friends a few times a year via text 

One doesn’t mention the other 

It’s all a mess 

I try not to shudder 

For time to march on and for new relationships to form feels like a travesty

That old cruise book from 10 years ago is majesty

I can’t let it go 

Because to do so would admit defeat 

Those pictures hold all the times I wish we could repeat 

I wish it hadn’t been our last cruise

I wish I’d been more attuned 

To what was under the water (rather than in it)

Maybe what I thought was splendid never was 

Because we don’t all talk and joke like we used to 

The feeling is worse than clutter 

Or being on a ship that’s going under 

That old cruise book has me 

Just like my old friends did

I hold it, then close it and put it back in the closet