The Evolution of Collections

I used to collect …

Rocks and seashells, seed pods and driftwood,

Bits of bone and feathers,

Desiccated insect carcasses and turtle carapaces,

Autumn leaves and spring flowers,

Pressed between the pages of cherished books,

Receipts from magazine I’d never attempt,

Shiny bits of broken glass found in the street,

And discarded jewelry dropped or cast-off intentionally,

To be kept In jars on my widow sills to catch the light,

Phone numbers on matchbooks and cocktail napkins,

A few photos and some lovers’ letters,

But not cards, never cards, except from bars,

Those postcards they use to announce concerts,

And art galleries to invite the public in,

Later sewn into pocket size notebooks,

For collecting the snippets of conversation,

Overheard on busses and in queues,

Crafted later into stories and poems.

The Inspiration from alleys and gutters,

Which for some reason I rarely frequent now,

Oh, and scraps of pretty paper for collage.

My calendar collected birthdays and christenings,

Dinner invitations and “Save the Dates,”

Airline reservations, car rentals, and hotels.

When did it begin to collect due-dates of library books and utilities bills,

Scheduled appointments for oil changes and tire rotations?

When did medical procedures begin to appear,

Teeth cleanings and doctor’s appointments,

In the place of parties and pedicures?

Oh, and obituaries?

Have I grown that much older?