Foundation

Foundation

Illuminated in dark recesses,
dust motes dance in the
sunlight as the slanting rays
of pale winter luminescence
find a fractured path through
mottled attic panes.

Shadowed cardboard forms
lurk in the dimness protecting
their forgotten treasures.

Pulling on a pin-wheeled top,
a box reluctantly blossoms,
opening its brittle petals and
releasing its musty perfume of age,
of lost memories, of discarded life.

Yellowed envelopes held together
with cracked green rubber bands,
a letterman jacket, once neatly folded,
now bearing a pattern from an old
vase carefully imprinted by time's
hand. Each calls to me
for attention.

A dull flash stirs curiosity.
I reach and pull a frail and
faded photograph from the
obscurity of its corner.

Smiling sepia faces
return my stare,
puncturing time's veil
and releasing a warm flow of memories.

I have discovered
the foundations of who I am...
I have discovered myself
illuminated in dark recesses.



Notes:

Line Count: 33

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