Ode To Unused Things


Ode To Unused Things


To my oversized gray Coach tote

Standing sentry in my foyer closet

Holding my car keys, wallet,

Various other things I deemed “necessities”

On a daily basis

And now have not touched more than three times in 35 days

I will never again complain how heavy you are

I salute you


To my faux fur-lined cozy L.L. Bean boots

Standing sentry in my bedroom closet

I’ll never forget the day I first saw you

Beckoning to me from the clearance shelf

In my favorite outlet

An impulse buy- for sure-

But, “What a deal!”

I texted my sister-in-law

As a witness to my

Consumer savvy

Worn but three times before Quarantine

In still winter weather

They will sit empty and wait for me

Lonely until next year

I salute you


To my mascara

(In truth, to all my makeup)

Faithfully still, resting in the drawer

Once I never left the house

Without all of you


My Don’t Give a Shit has reached

New levels

Because who can tell from a Zoom meeting

If you have makeup on anyway?

I’ll have to replace you by the time

I’m ready to have you back

In my daily life

But still…

I salute you


To my car

Oh, my poor car

I used and abused you, and there you sit, patiently,

Quietly in the driveway

Waiting for the old routine of days

When we will all climb in

Kids with friends and more friends

Chattering and yelling and laughing

Places to go, things to do,

More places to go, people to see

And I can’t even make the time

Now in quarantine

To vacuum you

I’m sorry

I salute you


To my Planner

Once you held a prominent place

In the center of the kitchen

Now you’ve been closed and sit

On the bottom of a shelf

Your scribbled pages

Told the stories of who, where, when, why, and how

Now silent and blank

To the Wall Calendar

Although you still take up space

Your boxes are marked

With ugly black slashed scars

Of events that will never happen

And two sets of numbers

The date and the days

in quarantine

I salute you both


Here’s to the stuff that’s picked up the slack

To the sweatpants and the hoodies

To the sneakers and the slippers

To the ponytail holders,

who march in by the dozens,

lost soldiers lying all around the house,

on every surface and every floor

To all the dogs

who probably loved this at first,

but are likely exhausted from

all the walks and too-close hugs

To the coffee machines and the wine glasses

(no explanation needed)

To the dishwashers and the washing machines

working double duty and over time

because everyone is home and


To the electronic devices in every corner

To the chargers we fight over

May you never, ever, ever, EVER

Die on us.



I salute you.


And I look forward to the world bringing us back into a better balance.

One thought on “Ode To Unused Things

  1. Pingback: To The Graduates | Gretchen L. Mulroy

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