Kevin Boyce is a lifelong resident of New England and lives in a small town in Massachusetts. He writes in the early morning hours before sunrise, alone with his thoughts and his dog. There is no sound but the ticking of the mantel clock, the creak of the house, and a few morning songbirds. Besides writing poetry, Kevin is a photographer and children’s book author. He volunteers in his hometown, leading a community-sponsored contest and publication for emerging authors.
Dumpster
In the top drawer of my dresser,
I keep mementos of my life-
emotional objects.
Trinkets my children
will throw away
as I did with my parents’
small souvenirs.
Valueless, but not meaningless
treasures.
A morsel of myself folded
into each tiny talisman
a song that takes you back
the remembrance – mine alone.
I grieve their loss and await
the faint echo of a dumpster
backing down the drive.