Artifacts
Stowed away in the attic
in old trunks
family secrets reside
like forgotten diamonds
In safety deposit boxes.
Love letters from the war,
old newspaper clippings
of a suicide, a love-triangle
murder, a drowning, a
Pulitzer Prize. More shades
than we ever knew, color
the existence of our very drab
lives. Buried beneath the ballast
of genealogy , our history
sleeps under a pile of old clothes.
No comments:
Post a Comment