Packrat by Naomi Long Madgett
My trouble is I always try to save ("save" is usually used in the context of preservation for future use) everything old clocks and calendars ("calendars" - serve no purpose except as souvenirs) expired words buried in open graves (like how conversations are recollected and analyzed in the night; gade murde ukhadna ) But hoarded grains of sand (juxtaposition - hoarding something transient) keep shifting as rivers redefine boundaries and seasons (how memories change with time; you tweak them and make them more sparkly, more magical or more rotten; timelines also morph in the land of memories) Lengths of old string (string a metaphor for stories, tales woven, the tapestry of life) rolled into neat balls neither measure nor bind (do not serve their original purpose (the object not the metaphor) but only serve as remnants of past times) nor do shelves laden with rancid sweets preserve (description of setting - shelves laden with boxes of spoil...