Borrowed Brooch

Mesmerised, memories made
the shimmer of sunlight on the sand
takes me to places I've never been.
It was always the treasured brooch.
Sitting on the dresser at Dalgety Street, it called for our touch, our admiration, our longing gazes.
Passed around from one cousin to another, feeling the concave crystal,
only to look,
never to take,
only to look, never to take.
Like passing on a legacy, Nanna asked me to take care of it, and so it sits
in velvet pouch,
looked lovingly at by my children,
only to look,
never to take...
To be passed on,
to
be passed on.