One bag of six to twelve months age baby girl clothing.
Special occasion dresses, good enough
to pass along.
If you are looking for those work-a-day wear items,
they will not be here.
Those onesies with first meals smeared
along the cuffs and collars,
stretched out sleepers,
pants wearing at the knees from first bouts of crawling.
Those are tucked away in a little box.
The one I have allowed myself
filled with the small trinkets collected
here and there to remind me. If I have tears
in my eyes when I hand them over, pay no mind.
It’s not you,
I just had to go through them.
Like they were calling me from the basement,
reminding me I would not be needing them again.
No sense in them moldering away.