Helen J Radford Poet Free verse

Dust To Dust

I left you in the corner of my mind 
with teenage memories of my puberty. 
I put thoughts of you in a box in the 
attic of my recall, along with others from 
that time, and there you lay, 
settled, gathering dust. 

Gathering dust. 

I wrapped each memory carefully, 
as one would a cut glass; delicate, 
trying to keep the stems intact. 
Desperate to retain the perfection 
yet scared it wouldn't last, and there you stayed, 
settled, gathering dust. 

Gathering dust. 

Years have rusted the recollection; 
Once vivid colours of reminiscence 
faded in perception, yet you sat 
patiently in the corner of my mind, 
jostled by accumulating life experiences, 
settled, gathering dust. 

Gathering dust. 

Like some old painting waiting 
for restoration, you bided your time. 
Then one day in the attic you spoke 
my name; you called me from your corner 
and into my present came a familiarity; 
a recognisable voice perforating the now with then 

and it was yesterday again - 

I unfold the tarnished tissue paper which 
has wrapped the ornate cut glass 
memory for so long; carefully, piece 
by tattered piece, and there it is, 
glistening in glorious perfection; 
vibrant still, safely stored, 

stem intact.

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