The Memory Box

Image courtesy: Google

Tucked away within the powdery dust

of layered thoughts recent and crusted,

lies a memory box with secrets locked

by a promise ancient yet trusted.

A whiff of its dark air deeply perfumed

by a cherished childhood complete,

takes me back to days bygone

through objects that seem obsolete.

Its hesitant creak upon my touch

sends forth ripples of innocent laughter

from carefree days lived to the brim

with no worry of what came after.

I caress its contents treasured-

feathers dyed, leaves dried,

letters inked, stones that winked,

coiled cones bequeathed by the tide.

Cradled deep within my memory box

is a handful of special red seeds

and brown ones with silken white tufts

wedged between luck-bringing weeds.

The broken red of bangles, bright

as the untouched bits of a heart forsaken

Faded petals, dry and brittle

once crimson with the love I’d taken.

Inside my little memory box

that mirrors a life of perfection

I seek refuge on rainy days

to see a sunny smile on my reflection.

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