A.M. Ream Poetry · January 2016 · New Beginnings Poetry · Poetry

Jar of Regrets



They were all lined in a row,

lids securely tightened,

filled to the brim.

All of the heartaches, regrets,

abandoned dreams I had

collected for decades.

Until one day,

I saw them for what

they truly were:

rotting, toxic memories

whose stench even

the airtight seals

could not mask.

Gathering the jars

in my arms, my legs traveled

as fast as I could go without

dropping a single vessel.

Kneeling on the cold earth,

I dug frantically, depositing

the jars and covering them

with dirt before my mind

had an opportunity

to rebel. With the last

scoop of earth covering

the keepers of death,

I felt the warmth

of the sun moments before

its light radiated through

the dark cover of clouds.

As I brushed the dirt

from my knees and hands,

I felt a weight lift from

my chest, a faint scent

of approaching spring

lingering in the air.

And I had new insight

on all the opportunities

I would encounter

on the road ahead.


–January 20, 2016

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