(a kyrielle)

A shadow hidden at the back
of her dresser drawer caught my eye
the day the movers came. I thought:
we keep things though we don’t know why.

A hundred foreign coins, a stack
of travel documents signed by
some long-dead border guard who fought
to keep things though we don’t know why,

a broken pocket watch, a black-
and-white shot of a compound high
in India, crammed in a box
to keep things though we don’t know why.

Tracing the alligator track
around this lid, I think of my
own collections, what I just bought
to keep things though we don’t know why.

Time stands still in keepsakes. We track
our past with trinkets that defy
every explanation sought.
We keep things though we don’t know why.


About Andrew Kreider

I'm a poet and musician,transplanted from London, England to beautiful northern Indiana. By day I am a stay-at-home dad with our three kids while my amazingly talented spouse conquers medical school one long shift at a time. At night, I'm a performer and trouble-maker. I love my life.

4 responses »

  1. Andrew, found your comment at virtualpoetryreading and had to click back to you. I love kyrielles, although I don't create them. The repetition, like a mantra, of "though I don't know why" is so effective because it's true in this scenario. Who knows why we hang on to things, other than to simply remember… or ponder, if no memory serves? Lovely, and thanks. Amy

  2. Wonderful poem, Andrew. I'm a bit of a collector myself, and I'll fully admit I really don't why most of the time lol. Very nicely done.

  3. true, we do things strangely at times.:)winsome poetry, welcome sharing with us today.

  4. Hello,How is your day?Glad to land here,Amazing poetic muses shared,Smiles.Welcome joining us for poets rally week 57,A random poem or a free verse is okay.Hope to see you in.Happy Thursday.xoxox


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