I am far away from what is familiar to me
Yet things here are familiar too; here with
all that can be seen, but little is truly known.
Into separate boxes here and yon
In dusty attics and cellars across the miles.
Cherished on the mantels of their days
Memories of things that fate has put away.
Nothing more and nothing less
Than the summers with my grandparents.
In the separate boxes here and yon
In dusty attics and cellars across the miles.
1 comment:
Being just one generation away from being placed in a dusty attic and forgotten, I found your observations/reflections deeply touching. Our life and legacy is left in the hands of those whose lives we either helped create or lives we may have influenced in other ways. I hate dust...please, no attic storage for me!
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