Too Many Words

My friend, client, and amazing children's book author, April Halprin Wayland, wrote a poem about her experiences with clutter busting her office. I want to share it with you:

by April Halprin Wayland

It started with one manila folder
holding just nine words:
ethereal, mellifluous, clink, crisp, apple, baby, shoulder, drool, listen.

Then five colored folders
in a beautifully braided basket.

Before long,
my file cabinet was jammed so tightly
with recycled file folders filled with words,
it was hard to pull out puddle, excellent, toasted,
or even a single shard.

I hired a handyman to build special shelves in my closet
for oversized ones like warmheartedness,
tall ones (tate, titter, colossal),
words without spines like pithless,
that need to be stacked
or stood up against dividers.

One day the words came tumbling down.
My room was filled with overconfident, noodle,
kleptomaniac, global.

The carpets were ruined.
I cried as I threw out onomatopoeia.
The walls were scratched by
aquamarine and nincompoop.

Today, my shelves breathe.
One shelf has only the word, now.
Another, air.
The top shelf had bird
but this morning it flew out
past open and window.
poem (c) 2012 April Halprin Wayland, all rights reserved

If you want to read her really neat ideas about decluttering, click here to read the rest of the blog post.