It’s a strange thing when you think about what gets left behind when we’re gone. The things we’ve collected, the spaces we’ve occupied – what happens when we are absence and dust?
Last year, I checked out some estate sales both in search of unique pieces and for fun, but I often left with a peculiar kind of melancholy. I found myself thinking about the people who had owned these items and what kind of significance those things held, if any. I thought about what the remains of what my own life might look like when broken down to the physical things I’d amassed and kept through the years.
When the summer ended and fall came with its changes, it felt like a season of grieving and a season of reflection.
Today, I’m pleased to have Estate Sale out in Polu Texni.
It’s a meditation on my feelings from that summer to fall. It’s about coming to terms and letting go. If you’re going through a tough moment or feeling a bit existential, I hope this poem helps you through it. Physical things aren’t the only things we hold on to.
Supplement: (Music) Traveling Song | Ryn Weaver