They Tell Me
by Gianna Patriarca
“it is time to be old”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
the time has come
without invitation
to be pushing grandchildren
on park swings
putting high heel shoes in boxes
for the Goodwill
clearing out closets
lighting a match to the
thousand photographs
leaving things clean
orderly
so sons and daughters will not
have to deal with the clutter.
unrealized dreams
essentially unnecessary
in the end
they tell me
there are no grandchildren
and the child says
“mother get a dog”
dogs frighten me
i will pack up the shoes
coats
dusty toys
empty the drawers of things
just things
but the photographs
are still proof
it all happened
the way i remember it
they will have to burn
later.
