Plastic

Among the packet of meaningful and meaningless things
your mother relinquished to me:
military records,
unsent letters meant for an older version of myself,
your most recent driver’s license—issued 2/13/92, and
issued three months later, your Death Certificate.

All of the above, just paper and plastic.
Experts agree; plastic is the unhealthier of the two.

I count myself as an expert
with a decades-long resumé built on revisiting
the packet of meaningful and meaningless things.

Plastic inflicts the most harm.
Specifically, the plastic preserving your last portrait
(courtesy of the North Carolina DMV).
The plastic that gets to hold your jubilant face
with its wild mustache.

Simultaneously, I am jealous of and grateful for
this chemical cocktail.
Certain to endure for a millennium
(experts agree),
available any time I choose to expose myself to harm
by revisiting the packet
of meaningful and meaningless things.

Melisa Wrex lives in the Adirondack Park of upstate New York with her husband where they enjoy seasonal porch visits from the neighborhood woodchuck. She writes infrequently, which could be blamed on her day job but to be completely honest, she’s just a procrastinator.