Called the movers and packers
Relocating...haven't I?
From the city thought to away fly...
Everything was being packed...
Your framed existence from my wooden rack...
Books with yellow pages...
Notes autobiographical abandoned for ages...
And that carved wooden box...
A pen with which spent days of detox...
Assorted wrappers of memorable chocolates
Bold and nimble handwritten dates...
Relocating...have I not?
Matrix printer without dots...
A small figurine...a copper brown dancer...
The unchecked questions...unsaid answers...
Recolating all those things tiny
Really became a trouble too many...
Weighty...aren't they? Really heavy?
Would they fit into my next location savvy?
Thought hours to decide...
How could one carry in truck the river-tides?
How could one relocate a whole silver night?
How could I pack and move several moments of delight?
Little things...but can they be packed?
Can drops of rains with fire be ever put in sacks?
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