Dusty Box of Memories
tucked in the attic’s yawning mouth
a box breathes dust and echoes time
its edges worn, its ribbon frayed
a tomb for moments left behind
inside, the scent of paper ghosts
of letters inked with trembling hands
photographs curled like autumn leaves
pressed in the weight of lost demands
a locket, dull with tarnished love
a ticket stub from laughter past
a wilted rose, its petals cracked
all whispering we couldn’t last
the lid creaks shut, a sigh of dusk
some things are best left locked away
but even dust, in golden light
remembers where the shadows lay
Dusty Box Of Memories Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
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