I should sit down to sort through
All I’ve chosen not to,
Since I’ve finally cleared a spot in
Basement piles I’ve forgotten.
I can clearly see the product of some spider sweat,
Decorations in between the Christmas that I’ve let
Sit for months behind a box of Halloween
That should have squeezed in right between
The box of camping gear that waits to live in twenty-ten
And the clothes I’ve kept that, maybe, might just fit again.
My pegboard hangs near empty on the wall
While the tools returned from projects start to sprawl.
The treadmill, the weight bench, my old furniture
All of which will someday be used I’m sure,
In fact right now they’re put to use by shelving gear
For babies who we know won’t show this time of year.
The aforementioned clearing must have been a mirage.
So instead of cleaning this mess, I’ll go look in my garage.
BonjourPoetry 
Oh, this poem hits home!
A reminder of the hollow artifacts that trail behind us, or, of our last vestiges of cultural rituals, I am not sure, but I sure do feel like having a yard sale.
Yeah… cleaning up my basement’s on my to do list.