Once wonder is found
perched on the ashy rays of light
and folding over corners of desolation.
Knowing the past was beautiful,
that it tempted the lost moments
painted with the threat of the future
and an indecisive present.

Looking away from what we live
to the inside where we can fade away in memories.
The desire to live what once was loved
sits atop the shelf fuzzy with time's filth.
The curiosity of that which will come
slips out of season no longer ripe
like the day it was sweet.

All these dreams and admirations
locked inside the trunk in the attic.
Only to be fawned over one day
in the dusty heat,
forgetfulness stroking the nostalgia
of aging bonfires.

Smiling with uneasiness,
looking down upon what once was.
Only to drop the lid on the trunk
and witness another breathing minute
in a few years unknown to come.

Until then the task of leaving groans
and the trash of the tock shoves you forward,
smirking at all the new belongings
which will fall
in the depths of a dejected album.

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