Neighbor couple of doors down died. His house and possessions disposed of in less than a week. Family members who didn't get along fought over items. The rest went to the curb.

Neighbor Ken died
Shrunken by an inoperable tumor.
His fractious family reconciled long enough
To strip the house
In moments, it seemed.

He would wait
For me to slip his paper through the mail slot.
Passing by
I would pet his dog.
SHIPPY was embossed on the tags.

Everything became junk at the curb.
People rifled through it: ancient 35mm’s, lawn chairs, nuts, and bolts.
On Monday, the junk vanished.
From now here to nowhere,
Like Ken, like SHIPPY.

I add them to my list and mouth their names.