These Have I Loved
Attic
The gleaming particles dance around,
The concentrated sunbeams; focusing
On the history that is my life, as the
Creaking steps, who speak only to me,
Lead me into my past, the dust that
Collects on the tips of my fingers,
As I wipe away the barrier that
Blocks my true sight, as the old
Smell of laughter feeds into my brain,
The sight of insulation as it gathers,
On my unblinking eyelashes,
The city of stacked boxes, give me
Endless enjoyment, allowing me to visit,
A time of my choice, like a time machine,
I can almost feel the summer heat,
That rises from fallen toys around me,
The sharp whistle and surprising draft of the
Wind, through the un-patched ceiling holes,
The wrinkled cardboard sound, as it
Grinds across its opposite side, revealing
The emotion of an un-forgettable past.
