Yard Sale

Confused, the sofa and hutch

face each other in the driveway,

next to the chainsaw and tractor.

Hanging on a rack

outside the garage door,

one purple, fuzzy bathrobe

waves nervously in the wind.

Nobody notices how loud

the curling iron, sitting on

the lazy-susan, reflects

the morning sun.

Both arms full

of bedsheet and coffee mugs,

a mother scolds her daughter

for touching the scooter,

waiting patiently by

the box of Christmas decorations.

Just sold and carried

to someone’s truck, a single ant

turns back & forth

in the center of the coffee table.

By Joshua Wren