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Whimsical look at the things we keep |
| Secrets In the Attic Wispy, sticky, clinging cobwebs guard the attic. Secrets kept secure by their own protector sitting on a three legged stool by a cracked window, unseeing glass eyes, keeping watch. A chest carelessly left ajar. Snippets of ribbon, lace, and sequins, tattered, strewn astray Once were glorious, now a disgrace. Behind broken glass dust flourishes hiding announcements of achievement or perhaps of mischief. What stories, what secrets would be let loose. If only the attic could talk and we would listen. A tarnished, gilded frame, tilted lopsided. A worn, fragile, glimpse into A moment of delight Frozen in time forever. For an angel, it was carved. Gently folded, lovingly placed in a shirt box. Kept for time immemorial Never rocked, stained with tear drops. Heartbreaks and Celebrations Equally preserved across the generations Which are better observed? |