This poem is taken from Stand 222, 17(2) May - June 2019.

Cheryl Julia Lee Two Poems

She kept her things
in loving memory of
小老姨

She kept her things in boxes and in plastic bags,
in boxes in boxes, and in bags in bags. She kept  
photos, newspaper cuttings, name cards, flyers,
and boxes and plastic bags. She fought to keep
them despite the mess, despite the clucking  
and the tsk-ing, and the constant quiet siphoning  
away of her things. Once we had nothing,  
she said, clutching her plastic triangles and her slips  
of paper with scribbled seven-digit numbers  
to her breast. She took nothing with her but her faith  
when she left. So now, we have her things in boxes  
and in plastic bags. And she too, a thing herself now  
among other things, kept in what might as well  
be a box or a bag. Now, when we have nothing,  
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