Grammie's Basement

Grammie’s Basement A quiet place of rest covered with the dust of decades Where wicker chairs of discarded summer days Sit with tangled strings of Christmas lights on their laps Alongside ornaments of glass so thin a whisper shatters shining globes; Bowler hats and boxes of stray buttons among the useless collar stays Seek reunion with blouses out of fashion and starched collars; Puzzles, games - pieces missing - a china doll, one shoe lost, Takes tea with tea sets buried beneath cards of celebrations long forgotten In melodies of old records played upon a phonograph Stuffed with card decks of fifty one, without their jokers, And cancelled checks - records of a life now passed In steamer trunks and satin shoes near yellowed lace on broad brimmed hats, In sewing patterns seen through new eyes as re-purposed treasures Awakened from their moth ball naps and cardboard catacombs, Blue mason jars filled again with harvesting preserved, refinished rockers, Crystal lanterns lighting up the twilight, walking sticks restored, Pictures welcomed back to life, remembering names forgotten, And fabrics reborn into warming winter quilts beneath the stars, Witnessing their rebirth, gracing once again a sleigh bed - Life no longer waiting for revival – rejoicing in the resurrection. 10-21-19 Craig Cornish My Favorite Junkyard