Clearance

What’s done with all the pieces
of a life left behind
after the gathering of buzzards over bone
pulling at the last shreds of flesh
after the crows dragging off
bits of glitter and flash
after the true hearts take
some worn beloved humble thing
there’s all the rest
a heap of used and useless stuff
the furniture old fashioned
the ornaments out-dated
dusty, cracked, broken, unrepaired
that we no longer bury with the dead
or pile with them on ships we set afire
and so this sad
unblushing brash reduction
a fire sale in the ashes of a life
strangers won’t remember