Suppose the items you left behind
were put on display. Texture and touch
concealed by glass. Images of you and others
framed and hung up on the walls.
A statue of you, made of marble.
Your reading glasses for all to see.
Preserve your pride in a jar.
Close your compassion in a closet.
Lock your ambition in a brief case.
Hammer your words of wisdom
in the wood.
Keep your hellos and goodbyes
in a file cabinet.
Expose and give your secrets
Away. Purchase your dreams and despairs
at the gift shop.
And when closing hour arrives
with a flick of a switch
all that is you
gets covered in the dust.
Poem by Nicole Fersko
Read in Italian: