Forgotten

The dust covered lid beckons as forgotten stories swirl in its depths,
As a once treasure is now no more than paraphernalia,
The carved patterns like the endless questions,
As grubby fingers once traced the delicate whorls,
The fissured corner bear endless cracks,
As thin as the grey wires Nan’s head once bore,
The cracked surface fractured by the demons of time,
As ch ip ped and b r o k e n as Nan’s teeth once were,
The dented edges a fragile hope to cling onto,
As scarred as Nan’s papery yet firm hands once held mine,
The bamboo wood reflects a past life well lived and loved,
As it f
a
l
l
s
into my hands,
The box is retrieved from the deep recesses of memory,
As I open the lid and I feel…Nan beside me once more.