Estate Sale
by Richard Schnap
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After our parents were sealed in the ground
My sister and I held a public auction
To liquidate a lifetime of antiques and art
That each had a story we both knew by heart
The colonial bed where we’d both been conceived
With a canopy woven of anger and tears
The paintings of landscapes that lined the walls
Without any trace of a human form
The vase I had given my father for Christmas
Hoping for a Thank You I never received
The print of Manet’s “The Dead Toreador”
That spoke to our mother in a private way
And as I watched it all disappear
To the houses of strangers to begin new lives
I felt they were dying a second time
Buried even deeper in a cold, dark past
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