The Fate of Things Left Behind

Marie Marchand
1 min readSep 28, 2019
Things Left Behind — M. Marchand, 2019

I pick things up
along my way through
cities and parks
found objects left behind

orphaned earrings
crayons conjoined by the sun

books by Kant and Dr. Seuss
branches in the shape of a cross

a single pristine goose feather
amongst all the ruffled ones

museful oddities
I weave into poems
when I long for words
to console me

some writers climb Everest
for inspiration
and sing the dharani
with Sherpas

others dive in turquoise seas
or fall from planes for the rush
or fall in love and declare
polyamorous fidelity

I tend towards
the simple
tiny whimsies of divine

I pick things up
examine them with my senses
invite them to
talk to me

and when the sundry charms
are poised to speak
I listen

when I ask if I can
write their stories down
they say there is nothing better
than to be memorialized
in a poem

to these forgotten pieces
poetry is a blessing
of immortality

© Marie Marchand, 2019



Marie Marchand

Poet Laureate of Ellensburg, WA. Author of Gifts to the Attentive from Winter Goose Publishing. @mishiepoet