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What is it that loves to lie in old shelves?
Is it slowly browning paper,
Baking in the oxygen of time?
Is it dreams we hope find again?
Cats, hats, baseball bats,
Wine, lime, memory time,
Pictures, stories, broken toys,
Smalls, falls, Barbie dolls,
Socks, locks, alarm clocks,
Music for practice, tennis raquets,
Plans for children in the future
Relics of parents in the past
Pants and shirts we used to fit
Intricate electromechanisms
Desperate forgotten plans
Husks of once juicy passions
Inhabited by random insect shells
I’ll be sweeping away.
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