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