Filing system

My office filing cabinet
Is indicative of a career.

The first of three drawers,
Topmost and slim,
Holds bandages; antacids;
Blank papers I know I
May, I’m sure, need later;
A 1/3rd used moleskine
Filled with orphaned pages;
Lens solution; unopened ink;
A box of 200 business cards
Minus 20; and a brushed
Keychain to commemorate
Those first five years. Oh,
And sunscreen used as lotion.

The next, deeper, larger,
Is weighted with business plans;
Merit increases; job offers;
A Panthers lamp, which cannot
Stay together; a wooden ship
From somewhere I haven’t been;
An hourglass from my loving wife,
Who wanted to ensure I never lost
QA points for time management;
And weeks-old nutri-grain bars.

The third, still deep, still large,
Keeps knickknacks, gained
Over time from bad investments;
A Bobcats playoffs towel;
And gifts from friends I heard,
More than saw, in Wilkesboro.

And now, for the fourth time
In four years, I am moving,
Knowing these items, their
Proximity, will be constant.