Sunday, 10 February 2013

Day Ten: #WoPoWriMo - Box in the Attic


You spoke to me today, 
through the scent of the dust, 
and the mothballs
in a long-closed
box; you spoke and the words
flew across
the years, like the wings of grey doves -
they wrapped and consumed me
in memories of love; unconditional; and a deep
summer haze. They smelled of the moss
that adorned and glazed
the lawn
in your garden of roses, and recalled
sugared pies and daisy-chain 
posies, picked and planted
in an egg-cup display;
they remembered all that was given
and taken away, under a precautious
strawberry-sun. It seemed I blinked,
one afternoon,
and you were gone;
climbed peeling paint 
of old stone stairs;
barely above 
the height of my knee,
just to find, 
you were no longer there.
I opened a box in the attic today - it smelled of my Great-Grandma's house. I hadn't breathed in that scent in twenty-four years... :) 

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