JUNK IN THE ATTIC

Things too precious to
Throw away
Too old and too torn to
Keep in view

Maybe guilt of letting go
Holding on to keep it safe
Preserve as is
If time stood still

As a scene from window-pane
Lent by chance
To my mind’s eye
Seep through skin and

Enters head
Absorbed by
Mind
And patient soul.

Fiona Munro 7th June 2005